PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL 
EQUATION 


PAINTING  AND 

THE 

PERSONAL  ELATION 

By 

CHARLES  H.  WOODBURY,  N.A. 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

THE  RIVERSIDE  PRESS  CAMBRIDGE 
I919 


► 


COPYRIGHT,    1919,   BY    CHARLES   H.    WOODBURY 
ALL   RIGHTS   RESERVED 


^D 


? 


'M^. 


PREFACE 

The  chapters  which  are  addressed  to  the  Student 
are  the  substance  of  six  lectures  given  at  Ogunquit, 
Maine,  in  connection  with  a  course  of  instruction  in 
out-of-door  painting.  They  were  accompanied  by 
a  criticism  of  the  several  hundred  sketches  made  by 
the  class  each  week. 

The  purpose  was  to  direct  the  mind  along  orderly 
and  constructive  lines,  and  to  furnish  a  basis  for 
individual  expression. 

Although  the  immediate  object  was  to  instruct 
in  painting,  it  is  apparent  that  consideration  of  the 
psychological  factor  must  be  of  the  same  impor- 
tance in  public  appreciation  as  in  technical  per- 
formance. For  this  reason  the  recognition  of  these 
organic  principles  opens  the  new  era  in  which  they 
will  be  of  equal  value  to  the  general  public  as  to  the 
Painter  himself.  There  are  as  many  realities  as 
there  are  men. 


861695 


CONTENTS 

Part     I.  The  Painter  i 

Part    II.  The  Student  17 

Part  III.  The  Public  179 


PAINTING 
AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

• 

PART  I 
THE  PAINTER 


PAijrrijsrG 

AMD  THE  PERSOJ^AL  EQUATIOJsT 

m         • 

PART  I 
THE  PAINTER 

The  dealer  and  the  painter  were  sitting  hand  in 
hand;  a  compromising  situation,  one  might  say,  but 
not  unprecedented,  for  we  have  the  parallel  of  the 
lion  and  the  lamb,  as  well  as  that  of  the  walrus  and 
his  fellow  philosopher. 

The  dealer,  in  his  simple,  artless  way,  was  demon- 
strating that  the  value  of  a  picture  lay  in  rarity, 
fashion,  and  subject.  He  was  willing  to  admit  that 
there  might  be  an  artistic  value  also,  but  that  had 
nothing  to  do  with  practical  considerations  and  was 
not  to  be  taken  into  account.  Of  the  three  impor- 
tant elements  there  seemed  to  the  painter  to  be  but 
one  that  he  could  control,  that  of  subject;  to  be 
really  rare,  he  would  have  to  be  dead,  and  to  be  the 
fashion  depended  a  good  deal  on  other  people.  Even 

3 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

in  the  subject  he  found  difficulties,  for  that  negligi- 
ble artistic  value  seemed  to  influence  his  choice  and 
carry  him  to  places  where  practical  people  were  few. 

"  Human  interest,"  said  the  dealer,  "fundamental 
human  interest." 

"Why,  yes,"  said  the  painter;  "but,  even  there, 
one  finds  difficulties.  I  saw  a  portrait  of  a  five-dol- 
lar bill  once  that  landed  the  artist  in  jail,  a  crimi- 
nal likeness,  as  some  portraits  of  people.  But  of 
course  it  is  scarcely  a  fair  example,  for  art  is  not 
imitation,  and  if  the  artist  had  tried  to  express  his 
sensation  on  seeing'' a  five-dollar  bill,  or  how  it 
looked  in  relation  to  its  surroundings,  he  might 
have  been  a  blameless  and  successful  man." 

"  I  mean  human  interest,"  said  the  dealer  coldly, 
"such  as  the  modern  Dutch  school  represents.  We 
have  sold  a  great  many  of  such  pictures  lately." 

"  I  know  one  of  the  best  of  the  Dutchmen,"  said 
the  painter,  "a  very  good  man,  too.  He  .told  me, 
however,  that  he  could  never  sell  one  of  his  pictures 
without  a  cradle  in  it.  It  is  not  every  one  who  could 
put  in  a  cradle,  and  not  have  it  interfere  with  other 
things;  and  then  it  is  not  always  appropriate,  is  it.'*" 

4 


TEE  PAINTER 

"This  Is  a  serious  discussion,"  said  the  dealer. 

"Of  course,"  said  the  painter,  "universal,  from 
the  cradle  to  the  grave.  I  know  a  man  who  painted 
deathbeds,  pathos,  you  know  —  the  first  one  was  so 
successful  that  the  public  would  take  nothing  else 
—  wanted  something  characteristic,  they  said  — 
and  he  had  to  go  on." 

"We  always  try  to  keep  ahead  of  the  public  taste 
and  direct  It  somewhat,"  said  the  dealer.  "Now, 
one  of  our  well-known  firms  bought  for  a  very  mod- 
erate price,  a  large  number  of  pictures  by  a  man  you 
painters  considered  one  of  your  greatest,  long  before 
he  was  generally  known  or  appreciated.  They  were 
put  out,  a  few  at  a  time,  and  the  critics  simply 
laughed  at  them,  but  they  were  wrong  —  and  since 
then  they  always  take  a  much  broader  point  of 
view  and  do  not  commit  themselves  until  they  can 
be  reasonably  sure  of  what  is  going  to  be  right.  It 
was  a  very  good  lesson  for  them.  Of  course  the  firm 
made  a  great  deal  of  money;  the  Barbizon  pictures 
gave  out  and  the  more  genuine  ones  began  to  bring 
such  large  prices  that  It  was  necessary  to  have  some- 
thing distinctly  different  to  offer  to  the  buyers  in 

5 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

the  way  of  a  masterpiece,  and  yet  so  moderate  In 
price  as  to  be  a  good  investment.  The  people  who 
bought  these  things  in  the  beginning  not  only  made 
money,  but  they  gained  a  reputation  for  artistic 
judgment  at  the  same  time." 

"Why,  yes,"  said  the  painter,  "I  knew  one  of 
those  art  lovers  in  Omaha,  but  he  acted  on  his  own 
judgment  entirely  and  not  on  the  advice  of  the 
dealers  whom  he  suspected  of  being  personally  in- 
terested. He  told  me  he  offered  twenty-five  per  cent 
of  the  catalogue  price  for  twenty  pictures  in  one  of 
the  large  exhibitions  and  got  eighteen  of  them.  Two 
of  the  men  were  not  hard  up.  He  lectures  on  art  now 
and  has  written  a  number  of  books  about  it. 

"Let  us  see  where  we  are,"  continued  the  painter 
thoughtfully,  as  he  squeezed  the  dealer 's  hand.  "We 
paint  the  pictures  and  hope  to  sell  them,  for  we  have 
to  be  supplied  with  money  as  well  as  the  rest  of  the 
world,  but  we  do  them  primarily  because  we  want 
to  put  into  visible  form  some  thought  or  feeling  we 
have  in  the  presence  of  our  subject.  As  a  commer- 
cial proposition  we  are  wrong  from  the  start,  for  you 
cannot  place  a  money  value  on  a  sensation.  Who 

6 


TEE  PAINTER  [ 

can  say  that  the  emotion  this  beautiful  cloud 
causes  is  worth  fifty  dollars  or  any  other  definite 
sum?  One  might  as  well  try  to  express  one's  family 
affection  in  dollars  and  cents,  which  is  certainly  im- 
possible unless  in  the  case  of  failure  when  it  comes 
to  divorce  or  breach  of  promise.  Then  the  situation 
is  commercialized;  we  balance  disappointment  with 
dollars,  mental  suffering  with  a  check,  and  perhaps 
try  again.  A  picture  is  for  the  one  who  can  under- 
stand it.  Failing  to  find  him,  it  passes  to  the  dealer 
who  makes  it  a  commodity.  I  do  not  say  that  he  is 
a  parasite  or  a  ghoul,  but  he  will  tell  you  that  he  is 
not  in  business  for  his  health,  and  that  his  natural 
kindly  impulse  is  to  please  rather  than  to  educate. 
So  his  concern  is  of  necessity  to  suit  the  public,  for- 
getting that  there  is  anything  else  involved.  The 
painter  who  takes  this  point  of  view  becomes  a  man- 
ufacturer like  any  other  maker  of  commodities.  He  is 
no  longer  an  artist,  because  he  has  given  up  personal 
expression,  and  is  willing  to  oblige,  as  the  dealer  is, 
for  business  reasons.  Back  of  him,  however,  stands 
the  work  of  better  men  than  he,  who  have  made 
pictures  so  important  a  way  of  expressing  thought, 

7 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

that  no  person  of  real  refinement  or  newly  acquired 
wealth  could  afford  to  be  without  them." 

"  How  do  you  sell  your  pictures?"  said  the  dealer. 
**My  customers  won't  have  them  at  any  price." 

"I  do  not  know,"  the  painter  answered.  "It 
seems  like  chance,  but  I  have  often  thought  that 
any  line  of  action  steadily  held,  even  though  it  is 
not  of  the  first  importance,  will  force  recognition 
in  the  end.  We  are  individualists  to  a  limited  extent, 
but  we  represent  a  universal  human  impulse.  We 
owe  allegiance  to  it,  and  our  support  comes  from  it. 

"Probably  the  cave  man  who  drew  a  picture  on 
a  bone  of  his  favorite  mastodon  found  at  first  that 
his  friends  considered  the  time  wasted  which  might 
have  been  better  employed  in  clubbing  his  neigh- 
bors. He  was  unpractical,  and  idealistic,  but  in 
the  end  their  own  interest  in  the  graphic  arts  was 
awakened,  and  they  helped  him  out  with  his  chores 
that  he  might  have  more  time  to  devote  to  his  art 
and  make  their  cave  the  home  beautiful. 

"I  would  consider  the  profession  to  include  not 
only  those  who  do  the  work,  but  those  who  under- 
stand it  as  well.  It  is  a  society  of  common  interests 

8 


THE  PAINTER 

and  seems  to  be  large  enough  to  support  its  active 
members,  even  without  the  help  of  the  dealers." 

"But  don't  you  think  — "  said  the  dealer. 

"I  doubt  it,"  said  the  painter,  and  shed  a  bitter 
tear. 

The  position  the  painter  holds  in  the  community 
is  an  equivocal  one.  His  usefulness  is  not  apparent 
to  most  people  and  there  is  no  common  need  of  him 
as  there  is  for  other  professional  men.  The  thing  he 
produces  seems  to  be  a  luxury  which  any  one  may 
be  without,  and  his  real  importance  is  so  general, 
so  much  a  matter  of  periods  rather  than  of  daily 
living,  that  it  is  not  strange  that  the  public  should 
be  unaware  of  his  value. 

The  ordinary  standards  of  success  do  not  apply. 
A  masterpiece  might  well  pass  unnoticed  and  have 
little  or  no  money  value.  On  the  other  side,  no 
amount  of  misspent  money  can  create  a  great  work, 
and  our  general  way  of  measuring  is  entirely  use- 
less. This  leads  the  painter  to  feel  that  he  is  mis- 
understood, and  unappreciated,  which  is  quite 
the  case.   Nor  can  it  be  very  different  in  a  world 

9 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

where  the  direct  needs  of  the  day  are  many  and 
pressing.  4 

If  a  painter  could  live  on  paint  alone,  his  problem 
would  be  simple,  but  a  sketch  well  made,  or  a  day 's 
work  well  done,  though  it  may  be  mentally  stimu- 
lating, has  little  of  nourishing  value  unless  it  is  re- 
ducible to  the  common  standard  of  exchange.  To 
the  prosperous  business  man  he  is  a  trifler,  an  ego- 
tist, unpractical,  unbusinesslike,  not  exactly  a  lady, 
and  certainly  not  a  gentleman,  an  able-bodied  per- 
son who  should  be  doing  something  useful,  unless 
by  chance  he  should  be  possessed  of  money.  He  is 
not  a  confidence  man,  for  some  pictures  are  valua- 
ble, but  they  are  more  likely  to  be  by  the  dead  than 
by  the  living,  and  the  presumption  is  against  the 
man  of  to-day.  This  does  not  apply  to  the  portrait, 
which  has  a  different  use,  enabling  one  to  do  some- 
thing personal  for  one's  descendants.  But  in  the 
end  time  judges,  for  the  portrait  of  the  king  of  fi- 
nance becomes  an  example  of  the  painter's  work, 
and  the  king  is  not  mentioned. 

To  the  majority  of  people  a  picture  is  an  imita- 
tion of  Nature,  and  they  anticipate  gloomy  times 

10 


TEE  PAINTER 

for  the  painter  when  photography  or  other  me- 
chanical processes  shall  be  so  perfected  as  to  repro- 
duce things  "just  as  they  are."  For  "just  as  they 
are, "  let  us  substitute  "just  as  they  seem,"  and  the 
whole  misunderstanding  is  swept  away.  We  do  not 
all  react  in  the  same  way  under  the  same  conditions 
and  a  picture  is  a  description  of  a  personal  reaction. 
If  it  were  possible  to  reproduce  by  mechanical  proc- 
ess the  action  of  light  on  matter,  we  should  have 
the  material  from  which  to  draw  conclusions.  But 
when  a  human  hand  takes  part  the  conclusion  is 
drawn,  not  by  reason  of  the  imitative  power  of  the 
instrument,  but  because  of  the  selective  quality  of 
the  mind.  That  is  to  say,  we  see  according  as  we  are, 
and  our  facts  vary  with  our  perceptions. 

One  can  sympathize  with  the  old  lady  who  said 
of  a  lively  sketch,  "I  have  lived  in  this  place  for 
thirty  years,  but  I  have  n't  seen  no  blood-red  rocks 
here."  She  took  it  as  criticism  of  her  eyesight,  since 
it  purported  to  be  a  sketch  of  things  as  they  were. 
Even  the  painters  themselves  have  not  always  been 
clear  on  this  point.  We  have  had  realism  based 
on  making  things  like,  though  the  term  itself  was 

II 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

originally  intended  to  distinguish  a  more  direct 
form  of  work  from  the  classic  and  romantic  of  other 
days. 

Generally,  to  see  what  is  in  front  of  one  is  sup- 
posed to  indicate  no  more  than  an  ordinary  degree 
of  intelligence,  and  when  a  picture  which  by  mis- 
conception is  supposed  to  be  a  copy  of  Nature  di- 
verges so  far  from  the  accepted  fact,  it  is  not  hard 
to  realize  why  it  is  taken  as  a  covert  criticism  or  a 
meaningless  vagary. 

"He  scootched  up  on  the  beach,"  said  an  old 
Maine  native,  "and  drafted  something  in  with  a 
smut  coal,  painted  it  all  red,  blue,  and  yellow,  and 
called  that  a  picture."  "I  don't  know,"  said  an- 
other, "how  he  could  have  got  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  for  a  picture  of  my  cow.  I  did  n't  give 
but  thirty-five  for  her  in  the  first  place,  and  it  don't 
look  like  her  anyway." 

Such  people  look  at  the  surface  of  the  canvas, 
seeing  each  spot  as  a  detached  and  positive  thing 
and  naturally  find  it  meaningless.  Stern  reality, 
too,  has  the  first  appeal,  and  it  is  hard  for  the 
farmer  to  conceive  that  representation  could  have 

12 


THE  PAINTER 

any  value  commensurate  with  the  fact.  He  might 
well  like  to  see  two  cows  grow  where  one  grew 
before,  but  one  cow  and  a  picture  —  the  aesthetic 
side  is  not  convincing.  He  feels  vaguely  wronged, 
for  his  standards  have  been  attacked  in  a  way  that 
carries  conviction. 

What  the  painter  is  to  himself,  his  fellow  paint- 
ers, and  his  work,  is  a  hard  matter  to  define.  He 
is  not  in  any  way  the  creature  of  Bohemia  that 
one  finds  from  time  to  time  in  novels  of  the  day, 
that  unappreciated  genius  with  long  hair,  floating 
tie,  and  queer  habits.  He  may  not  even  be  a  genius, 
or  very  different  from  other  people  in  his  general 
needs  or  ways  of  thought.  He  deals  with  sensation, 
and  for  that  reason  the  personal  equation  has 
greater  influence  in  his  life  and  work  than  it  could 
have  if  he  were  following  more  specific  things.  This 
perhaps  makes  him  an  egoist  and  imposes  the  cor- 
responding limitations.  To  counterbalance  it,  how- 
ever, he  has  the  ordinary  man  side,  which,  in  pro- 
portion to  its  quality  and  wisdom,  keeps  the  painter 
in  check,  judging  and  weighing  the  more  isolated 
person. 

13 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

Painters  disagree  on  every  point  connected  with 
their  profession,  and  are  more  than  gently  insistent 
in  their  expression  of  it.  They  meet,  however,  in  the 
common  belief  that  though  they  may  differ  among 
themselves  they  hold  the  truth  between  them,  and 
it  is  impossible  for  the  public  to  understand.  Now 
and  then  comes  a  glimmer  of  hope  of  the  dawn  of 
intelligence  and  a  public  awakening,  but  it  is  gen- 
erally connected  with  the  sale  of  a  picture  and  has 
personal  rather  than  general  significance. 

The  painter  is  very  fond  of  paint,  quite  as  the 
good  carpenter  is  of  planing  a  smooth,  square  edge, 
or  as  any  other  man  likes  deft  work  which  he  does 
with  his  hands.  In  fact,  probably  the  majority  of 
painters  think  only  of  the  technical  side  of  their 
work  as  they  do  it,  carrying  the  thought  of  the  sub- 
ject subconsciously  even  to  the  point  sometimes  of 
denying  its  existence,  as  with  those  who  claim  to 
paint  only  literally  what  they  see.  Therefore,  a 
painter's  criticism  of  another's  work,  as  well  as  his 
pleasure  in  it,  is  likely  to  be  a  technical  one,  and 
overbalanced  on  that  side.  In  this  is  found  his 
grievance  with  the  critic,  who  directs,  praises,  or 

14 


TEE  PAINTER 

condemns  that  which  he  at  best  but  sUghtly  under- 
stands and  could  in  no  case  do  himself. 

The  truth  of  the  matter  is,  that  the  universal  pic- 
ture combines  in  itself  the  abstract  beauties  of  form 
and  color,  originating  sensation,  the  thought,  which, 
though  on  a  special  theme,  may  be  so  complete  as  to 
suggest  parallels  of  a  general  nature,  and  the  tech- 
nique, which  is  the  graceful  and  skillful  means  of 
adequate  expression.  That  few  pictures  can  answer 
all  of  these  requirements  goes  without  saying.  For- 
tunately greatness  may  be  found  within  its  own 
limits,  and  it  would  be  a  misfortune  to  undervalue  a 
real  attainment  in  one  direction  even  if  it  made  no 
attempt  to  answer  the  whole  problem. 

The  painters  who  deal  in  light  and  color  alone, 
sacrifice  the  beauties  of  line  and  composition  for 
their  sake.  In  making  this  choice  they  necessarily 
limit  the  range  of  their  work  to  a  side  of  art  that 
is  more  easily  understood  by  the  painter  than  the 
public  at  large.  There  is  in  it  the  lure  of  sensation 
and  a  technical  problem  as  well,  both  beyond  the 
province  of  the  untrained.  Professional  arrogance 
has  little  justification  when  one  considers  the  sub- 

15 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

ject  as  a  whole,  for  the  appreciation  of  beauty  is 
not  rare  or  confined  to  people  of  talent  and  training. 
No  specialist  can  claim  it  as  his  exclusive  field,  for 
it  is  interwoven  with  the  entire  mental  life  of  civ- 
ilization. 


PART  II 

THE  STUDENT 


PART  II 

THE  STUDENT 

I 

A  PICTURE  is  not  simply  a  matter  of  putting  on 
paint,  for  painting  is  only  the  final  process,  even 
though  it  is  skillfully  and  effectively  done.  The  pic- 
ture is  the  visible  expression  of  our  personal  artistic 
impulse.  It  is  a  result,  and  if  not  in  every  case  ex- 
actly the  one  we  hope  for,  we  are  here  to  look  for 
the  cause. 

No  one  can  deny  that  the  means  of  expression 
are  important,  but  they  are  of  little  use  after  all  if 
we  do  not  know  what  we  are  trying  to  say,  or  why 
we  are  trying  to  say  it.  Much  of  the  class  work  will 
be  directed  to  these  points,  and  it  is  quite  possible, 
as  we  go  on,  that  you  will  find  that  technical  diffi- 
culties which  have  troubled  you  before  will  disap- 
pear in  the  clearer  understanding  of  your  own  mo- 
tives and  reactions.  My  belief  has  always  been  that 
knowledge  or  skill  is  much  more  easily  acquired  if 
one  has  a  definite  use  for  it.  For  this  reason,  you  will 

19 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

find  that  the  hard  work  that  you  must  necessarily 
do  in  the  Art  School  may  be  somewhat  lightened. 
Drawing  will  be  no  longer  an  abstraction,  but  rather 
the  means  to  a  definite  end. 

From  the  start,  then,  we  will  divide  our  troubles 
into  those  that  are  due  to  our  own  natures,  and  to 
others  that  belong  to  the  natural  depravity  of  paint. 
The  first  need  immediate  attention,  for,  after  all, 
we  are  the  motive  power  and  the  paint  does  more 
or  less  what  it  is  told.  The  root  of  the  painter  is  in 
the  man,  and  the  plant  only  can  grow  as  it  has  soil 
to  feed  it.  Let  us  understand  ourselves  first;  we  are 
well  worth  it. 

Accurate  sight,  choice,  and  clear  expression  are 
the  elements  that  make  good  painting. 

The  terms  are  easy  to  state,  but  you  will  find 
them  far-reaching.  Sight,  which  seems  such  a  simple 
and  direct  thing,  is  by  no  means  positive,  for  there 
is  many  a  habit  between  the  eye  and  the  brain, 
ready  to  distort  the  message.  Choice  carries  us  deep 
into  our  own  natures,  and  we  must  not  only  know 
ourselves,  but  measure  without  a  fixed  standard.  It 
is  only  when  we  come  to  expression  that  we  can  take 

20 


THE  STUDENT 

comfort,  for  there  it  is  but  a  matter  of  hard  work 
and  common  intelligence. 

Any  competent  person  can  do  good  work  if  he 
knows  what  good  work  is.  It  is  in  the  standard  that 
the  difficulty  lies. 

We  are  at  present  in  a  transition  state,  and  there 
seems  to  be  no  generally  accepted  standard  of  Art. 
In  fact  the  divergence  of  opinion  is  so  great  as  to 
make  it  possible  for  a  picture  to  be  regarded  by 
one  as  a  masterpiece,  and  by  another  as  an  unfor- 
givable insult.  But  we  are  going  to  work  it  out  and 
see  if  there  is  any  real  clue  to  the  situation. 

A  picture  is  a  thought  or  a  feeling  expressed  in 
terms  of  Nature.  Your  thoughts  and  feelings  are 
your  own,  and  their  general  value  depends  on  many 
things,  but  expression  is  much  less  complex,  and 
its  definite  part  is  to  be  understandable.  If  we  chose 
to  express,  for  ourselves  alone,  we  could  do  it  in  any 
kind  of  arbitrary  way  which  seemed  suitable  and 
convenient. 

But  most  of  us  wish  to  say  something  to  some- 
body else,  we  are  willing  to  be  understood,  and  that 
limits  us  to  a  generally  accepted  form.  A  word  is 

21 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

arbitrary  anyway,  and  becomes  significant  only  by 
use,  as  was  discovered,  some  years  ago,  by  a  set 
of  young  literary  men  in  Holland.  They  found  no 
words  in  the  Dutch  language  to  do  full  justice  to 
their  emotions,  and  so  manufactured  new  ones  for 
that  purpose.  It  was  not  a  great  success,  for  the 
new  words  were  unintelligible  to  any  outside  of  the 
cult,  and  the  thought  was  lost  to  the  world. 

To  say  something  to  some  one  else,  do  not  use 
your  own  arbitrary  symbols.  The  language  of  the 
world  is  sufficiently  complete  to  express  the  finest 
thought  you  may  have.  The  bigger  conditions  are 
imposed  on  you.  Beyond  that  it  is  your  story. 
You  can  tell  each  day  a  new  one,  and  it  will  be 
true. 

Expression  in  pictures  has  a  definite  foundation, 
for  the  visible  world  is  practically  the  same  to  us  all, 
and  the  painter  uses  what  amounts  to  a  universal 
language. 

This  might  seem  to  be  leaving  out  of  account  the 
men  who  call  themselves  Symbolists,  Cubists,  Fu- 
turists, and  even  Modernists,  but  I  am  sure  that 
they  would  join  us  in  wishing  it  so.  It  is  worth  while, 

22 


THE  STUDENT 

however,  to  consider  them,  for  they  may  be  valua- 
ble to  us  in  ways  of  which  they  are  unconscious. 

Superficially  these  speculators  misrepresent  Na- 
ture, but  claim  that  they  do  it  by  intention,  and 
better  to  express  their  sensations.  Of  course  there  is 
some  disadvantage  in  misrepresentation;  it  is  so 
easily  confounded  with  ignorance;  but  we  are  all 
likely  to  suffer  injustice  even  though  we  may  be 
academic  and  conventional.  The  trouble  is  with  the 
common  understanding,  for  those  poor  ladies  of 
bones  and  irregularly  distributed  features  are  more 
likely  to  suggest  to  us  malnutrition  than  highly  ab- 
stract thought.  Mutilation  and  distortion  are  too 
personal.  I  might  have  been  that  subject  myself. 
And  the  case  is  not  much  better  if  the  painter  as- 
sures us  that  the  portrait  is  not  supposed  to  be  a 
likeness  of  his  sitter,  but  of  the  way  she  makes  him 
feel. 

Is  it  wonderful  that  the  public  is  puzzled,  and 
utterly 'at  a  loss  to  know  what  it  all  means?  Much 
of  it  is  obvious  charlatanism,  some  of  it  is  honest  in- 
competence, part  of  it  is  simple  degeneracy,  and  the 
rest  is  valuable  intention. 

23 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

Do  not  take  it  as  a  school,  or  even  as  a  style  of 
painting,  but  rather  as  a  symptom  of  the  times. 

We  have  come  to  the  point  where  many  an  old 
tradition  is  worn  out.  Many  conventions  have  be- 
come lifeless,  although  based,  in  the  beginning,  on 
something  definite  and  real,  and  it  is  high  time  to 
break  them.  But  there  is  very  little  use  in  breaking, 
unless  something  is  supplied.  I  cannot  feel  that  there 
has  been  any  constructive  purpose  shown  by  these 
special  men.  They  are  doing  a  service  in  shaking  up 
dry  bones,  and  it  is  good  for  bones  to  rattle;  but  it 
amounts  to  nothing  but  persecution  if  the  matter 
stops  there. 

It  is  true  enough  we  were  a  little  drowsy  and  the 
day's  work  had  only  begun.  We  had  carried  one  pe- 
riod to  its  logical  conclusion,  and  were  contenting 
ourselves  with  restating  the  result. 

We  look  back  to  the  time  of  the  Barbizon  School, 
and  wonder  at  its  dull  conventions.  The  color  looks 
arbitrary,  and  even  the  skillful  form  seems  dictated 
by  rule  and  custom.  But  the  men  of  1840  were  dis- 
covering Nature,  and  painted  her  much  as  they  saw 
her. 

24 


THE  STUDENT 

Then  came  Manet,  Monet,  and  the  Impression- 
ists, whose  idea  was  to  interpret  rather  than  to  rep- 
resent. This  was  a  wild  innovation,  and  the  critics 
were  hysterical,  promising  to  put  a  quick  end  to 
such  absolute  madness.  We  all  know  how  far  this 
was  done.  The  Impressionists  brought  their  contri- 
bution and  it  has  been  absorbed  and  incorporated 
into  the  general  standards  of  the  day.  They  are  now 
conventional,  and  it  is  hard  to  see  how  they  ever 
could  have  looked  radical  and  iconoclastic. 

At  the  present  time  we  are  entering  another  pe- 
riod. The  purpose  has  passed  from  representation 
through  interpretation  to  suggestion.  The  root  of 
the  modern  movement  is  suggestion,  the  use  of  facts 
to  induce  a  train  of  thought,  and  this  opens  up  a 
wide  field. 

Not  that  a  new  thing  has  been  discovered,  but 
that  we  have  recognized  the  nature  of  a  force  which 
has  been  hitherto  instinctive.  Properly  used  sug- 
gestion wdll  include  everything  that  has  gone  be- 
fore. It  draws  on  the  past  for  its  value  and  associates 
memory  with  the  present.  The  wanton  mutilation 
of  Nature  does  not  seem  to  have  much  to  do  with 

25 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

the  case.  A  fact  is  deliberately  used,  not  for  itself, 
but  to  create  a  sensation,  and  to  awaken  the  corre- 
sponding memories  and  ideas. 

This  does  not  seem  a  drastic  innovation  even 
to  a  gentle  and  retiring  nature,  but  it  is  a  very  defi- 
nite force,  capable  of  misuse  in  the  hands  of  irre- 
sponsible people.  If  one  is  so  made  as  to  take  pleas- 
ure in  shocking  the  righteous,  disgusting  or  annoy- 
ing, he  has  the  means  at  his  disposal.  Such  sport, 
however,  we  generally  leave  to  the  bad  small  boy, 
who  goes  as  far  as  he  may,  still  avoiding  the  stem 
hand  of  Justice.  We  are  blurred  by  our  terms.  We 
are  youthful,  but  we  are  not  troubled  with  young- 
ness.  We  of  to-day,  are  the  Futurists  of  yesterday, 
unless  we  disown  our  parents. 

Certainly  we  are  grateful  to  these  men,  for  they 
have  brought  us  something  of  real  value,  even 
though  it  is  wrapped  in  worthless  material.  And 
for  them,  it  is  possible  that  there  is  a  fatted  calf 
waiting  and  that  even  their  husks  are  doing 
good  service  —  who  can  say?  It  is  difficult  to 
judge  men  of  the  future,  especially  if  they  have 
no  past. 

26 


THE  STUDENT 

A  word  about  the  Primitives,  and  then  we  shall 
be  ready  for  the  present. 

The  original  Primitive  does  not  need  to  be  ex- 
plained. He  used  the  means  he  had  to  express  the 
thought  of  his  day.  He  did  not  even  realize  that  he 
was  a  Primitive.  His  mind  turned  to  the  future,  but 
his  methods  were  a  subordinate  consideration.  He 
did  as  well  as  he  could.  The  past  would  have  carried 
him  back  to  the  cave  man,  who  was  in  his  turn  the 
Primitive  and  had  neither  thought  nor  method  to 
give  his  successor.  Nevertheless,  that  same  cave 
man  was  the  original  artist,  the  first  to  establish 
a  value  that  was  not  strictly  utilitarian.  He  lived 
in  a  practical  age;  his  friends  undoubtedly  called 
him  an  altruist,  which  means  that  he  did  not  live 
exclusively  in  the  passing  incident.  He  and  his  fel- 
lows have  something  for  us  that  was  not  in  the  cut 
of  their  clothes.  We  inherit  the  men  that  they 
were. 

From  the  first  picture  to  the  one  that  has  just 
been  painted,  the  sequence  of  thought  and  inten- 
tion is  unbroken.  The  method  is  a  matter  of  the  mo- 
ment. It  might  well  be  that  an  old  method  could 

27 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

clothe  new  thought,  unless,  indeed,  the  garment 
were  outgrown. 

Take  nothing  old  or  new  for  its  surface  value, 
even  a  balloon  depends  on  its  gas.  Paint  as  a  Primi- 
tive if  you  like,  but  revert  or  else  you  are  hollow. 

As  we  rummage  among  our  conventions  and  hab- 
its, we  think  with  a  sigh  of  when  we  were  little  chil- 
dren, and  were  not  bothered  by  so  much  knowledge. 
There  was  no  hesitation  about  painting  our  trees 
green  because  we  knew  that  trees  were  green.  Facts 
were  in  large  and  definite  pieces  and  there  were  not 
so  many  of  them  after  all.  Our  men  needed  eyes, 
nose,  mouth,  but  so  long  as  they  got  the  regular 
supply  they  were  all  that  people  should  be.  The 
engines  had  plenty  of  smoke,  and  horses  had 
enough  legs  to  stand  on.  In  fact  we  went  in  for 
essentials.  As  we  proceeded,  however,  experience 
gripped  us;  we  could  not  put  down  all  we  knew, 
there  was  not  room  enough,  and  the  eyes  got  too 
big  for  the  head,  since  they  had  to  have  lashes. 
We  lost  our  man  in  his  features.  We  forgot  the  tree 
in  making  the  leaves.  A  career  began  to  seem 
doubtful. 

28 


THE  STUDENT 

We  hear  much  of  the  direct  vision  of  childhood, 
and  it  is  certainly  something  to  be  consIdered.The 
child  sees  in  generalities  through  lack  of  Intimate 
knowledge.  Having  the  knowledge  we  must  sum 
up  carefully  and  come  to  general  conclusions.  It  is 
the  simplicity  of  ignorance  compared  to  the  sim- 
plicity of  knowledge.  There  might  sometimes  be 
resemblance  in  the  outer  form,  but  never  in  the  es- 
sence. Those  who  are  seeking  to  repeat  the  childish 
pictures  in  the  name  of  naive  simplicity,  forget  that 
they  are  not  only  unable  to  put  themselves  back 
to  the  mentality  of  six,  but  that  six  itself  cannot 
record  Its  vision  accurately. 

As  an  illustration  of  clear  childish  sight  I  remem- 
ber one  late  afternoon,  as  I  was  driving  with  a  small 
boy  of  five,  there  was  an  old  white  horse  in  the  near 
field  which  was  In  shadow,  and  beyond,  a  hill  in  the 
orange  light.  The  boy  said,  "Look  at  that  blue 
horse."  It  was  a  fact  to  the  child,  a  relation  to  the 
painter,  but  to  the  majority  of  people  it  simply 
would  not  have  been  so.  Experience  teaches  us  that 
horses  are  not  blue,  and  our  eyes  are  likely  to  tell 
us  only  what  we  know. 

29 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

Do  not  confuse  habit  with  personality.  Perhaps, 
after  all,  you  were  not  made  that  way  and  you  still 
can  do  something  about  it.  It  is  natural  to  have  se- 
cret pride  in  our  inhibitions,  for  we  realize  that  we 
are  not  like  other  people,  but  it  is  not  always  the 
mark  of  genius  or  even  of  virtue. 

Clear  sight,  clear  thought,  and  clear  expression; 
the  thought  should  depend  on  the  sight,  and  the 
expression  on  the  thought.  They  are  all  bound  to- 
gether in  the  final  result,  but  we  will  have  to  take 
them  up  separately  as  we  study.  :'-   • 

Our  impression  of  Nature  is  a  very  simple  one. 
If  we  were  to  look  at  a  certain  landscape  —  it 
might  be  sea,  sky,  trees,  rocks  —  and  if  you  were 
asked  what  you  saw,  you  would  probably  not  tell 
the  truth.  You  would  name  all  of  these  things  and 
theji  proceed  to  describe  them,  but  your  description 
would  be  from  your  previous  experience.  You  se.e 
less  than  you  think.  You  specialize  from  your  knowl- 
edge. You  see  in  general  tones  until  you  allow  your 
attention  to  rest  on  some  definite  spot.  It  is  impor- 
tant that  you  should  understand  this  point  clearly, 
for  it  will  dispose  of  all  of  your  preconceived  ideas. 

30 


TEE  STUDENT 

You  will  have  need  enough  of  your  knowledge  later, 
however  great  it  may  be. 

I  want  to  separate  your  look  from  your  thought, 
for  in  your  look  you  are  receiving  without  criticism, 
or  question,  or  comment.  It  is  pure  color  sensation, 
the  present  of  the  day.  Not  a  thing  that  you  have 
ever  seen  before  or  will  ever  see  again,  for  the  vary- 
ing conditions  do  not  repeat  themselves.  Your  mind 
has  nothing  to  do  with  it,  except  to  receive  the  di- 
rect message  from  your  eyes. 

\  Conceive  your  picture  to  be,  in  its  beginning,  only 
what  is  included  in  a  single  glance.  That  would  be 
made  up  of  large  form  and  general  color.  If  we  find 
an  interest  later,  these  are  its  surroundings,  the 
background  of  our  thought.  The  color  of  Nature 
depends  on  the  sky,  as  it  is  the  source  of  light.  Local 
color  itself  is  a  part  of  the  sun's  light,  and  in  addi- 
tion it  is  modified  by  the  direct  light  reflected  from 
the  surface.  So  what  we  see  is  very  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  special  day  and  time.  As  the  di- 
rection and  color  of  the  light  change,  so  all  color 
changes.  A  red  rock  would  be  red  as  long  as  one 
could  see  it,  but  the  kind  of  color  would  depend  on 

31 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

what  the  sky  happened  to  be  at  the  moment,  and 
also  on  the  position  of  the  sun.  These  conditions 
are  established  by  a  great  many  local  things,  humid- 
ity, temperature,  and  wind,  all  adding  together  to 
make  the  colored  light  of  the  moment. 

You  see  well  enough  that  consistency  of  color 
effect  must  be  one  of  the  first  requirements  of  a 
good  sketch,  and  Nature  is  likely  to  keep  on  chang- 
ing while  you  wait. 

Now,  if  you  paint  the  sky  properly,  have  a  great 
deal  of  trouble  with  the  water,  and  wind  up  in  tri- 
umph with  the  rocks,  you  may  have  occupied  an 
hour.  The  sky  has  changed  in  that  time,  however, 
and  in  our  picture  the  rocks  belong  to  half -past  ten, 
while  the  sky  is  that  of  an  hour  earlier.  There  is  a 
false  relation.  Your  color  scheme  is  worthless  be- 
cause it  is  not  consistent.  You  have  to  make  the 
sketch  so  simple  in  the  first  attempt,  and  so  accu- 
rate in  the  adjustment  of  the  larger  color  values, 
that  you  make  it  true  to  one  set  of  conditions. 
I  often  find  pupils  who  work  patiently  from  nine  till 
one,  beginning  with  the  sky  and  ending  with  the 
foreground,  oblivious  to  the  fact  that  they  have 

32 


TEE  STUDENT 

recorded  the  changes  of  an  entire  forenoon.  Consist- 
ency first. 

We  should  say  to  ourselves,  kindly  but  firmly, 
"This  thing  that  I  see  gives  me  a  definite  impression 
which  comes  from  the  relation  of  a  few  large  tones." 
Establish  the  sky  in  its  general  color  and  then  the 
other  important  masses  in  their  relation  to  it,  and 
stop  to  check  up  the  result  before  any  great  changes 
occur.  This  insures  consistency,  and  any  details 
that  may  be  added  later  are  kept  within  the  limits 
of  these  original  tones;  the  sketch  will  be  a  true  rec- 
ord of  some  special  time  and  condition.  It  is  easy 
to  make  corrections  in  the  beginning,  as  we  have 
no  details  to  hamper  us  and  the  spaces  are  flat  and 
definite. 

You  begin  with  a  very  simple  set  of  color  values, 
and  end  with  them,  or  nothing.  You  will  come  to 
think  of  them  less  and  less  as  first  steps,  and  finally 
you  will  consider  them  as  almost  the  unattainable. 

You  do  not  have  to  repaint  a  tone  that  is  slightly 
wrong,  but  add  to  it  the  element  that  is  missing. 
Put  on  the  color  in  any  way  you  choose,  but  choose 
the  quickest  way  always.  Scrub  it  on  as  if  you  were 

33 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

painting  a  fence  or  washing  a  boy's  face.  It  makes 
absolutely  no  difference  about  the  surface,  the  color 
scheme  is  the  thing  you  are  after.  If  the  general  tone 
of  your  rocks  is  wrong,  no  amount  of  lovely  rock 
drawing  will  make  them  good,  and  it  will  all  be 
wasted  time. 

Be  deliberate.  Size  up  the  whole  day  and  condi- 
tions. There  is  always  plenty  of  time  for  essentials, 
but  the  unimportant  things  are  so  many  that  it  is 
impossible  to  do  them  all,  and  we  are  worked  to 
death  by  the  trifles.  Then  paint  as  though  you  had 
been  sent  for.  You  cannot  afford  to  lose  a  second 
anywhere  —  not  a  second.  After  the  first  five  min- 
utes you  should  feel  a  glow  of  satisfaction  in  the 
thought  that  whatever  Nature  might  do  in  the  way 
of  changes,  you  have  nailed  that  effect. 

The  sketch  is  not  made  up  of  a  number  of  small 
and  ill-adjusted  things,  but,  like  the  world,  is  massed 
together  in  a  big,  consistent  way,  and  afterwards 
may  be  modulated  and  formed.  In  the  beginning 
and  at  the  end  you  have  these  large  considerations. 
They  are  the  same  in  the  beginning  as  in  the  end. 
It  is  only  the  addition  of  matters  important  to  the 

34 


TEE  STUDENT 

whole  that  warrants  the  time  and  the  work  put  on 
the  picture  subsequently. 

So  far,  I  have  talked  to  you  only  of  color  im- 
pression, but  naturally  you  cannot  have  color  with- 
out form,  and  divisions  without  dividing  lines.  If 
we  start  with  the  simplest  division  we  can  possibly 
make,  it  would  have  to  be  earth  and  sky.  Our  pic- 
ture would  be  then  in  two  tones.  To  carry  on,  we 
could  divide  the  earth  into  sea  and  land,  and,  fur- 
ther subdivide  into  land  and  trees,  adding  elements 
in  their  relative  importance.  If  we  are  limiting  our- 
selves, however,  to  our  color  sensation  of  a  few 
basic  values,  we  shall  never  be  tempted  to  go  far 
into  specialized  form,  and  the  meaning  of  our  forms 
will  help  the  choice.  It  is  a'good  check  on  your  nat- 
ural rapacity  for  minor  things,  and  will  often  help 
you  to  discriminate.  In  starting  this  way  we  accom- 
plish several  important  things  in  a  very  short  time. 

In  the  first  place,  we  have  a  consistent  effect, 
having  insured  ourselves  against  changes  of  light 
if  we  keep  within  our  established  limits.  We  have 
designed  our  canvas  for  better  or  for  worse,  by  di- 
viding the  space  into  masses  of  color,  and  finally  we 

35 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

have  the  general  black-and-white  values.  These 
values  we  did  not  realize  we  were  getting,  for  they 
are  inherent  in  the  color,  and  are  the  equivalents 
in  neutral  to  which  all  color  is  reducible.  If  one  is 
to  compare,  it  must  be  done  through  a  common 
term ;  money,  for  example,  or  light,  or  good  manners; 
in  this  case  it  is  light,  which  is  a  very  respectable 
standard. 

It  may  seem  somewhat  of  a  risk  for  me  to  tell 
you  that  first  attempts  can  ever  be  considered  of 
much  importance.  They  are  certainly  not  successes, 
and  yet  through  them  you  are  beginning  to  assert 
your  superiority  over  external  conditions.  You  are 
weighing,  summing,  deciding,  establishing  your 
right  to  a  personal  opinion;  not  the  sort  of  things 
that  incompetents  do.  The  tangible  results  may 
be  very  few,  but  they  are  certainly  better  than 
cheap  successes.  I  do  not  suppose  that  many  of  you 
are  overflowing  with  self-confidence  when  you  start 
your  morning  sketch.  You  have  no  reason  to  be  so 
when  you  think  of  yesterday  or  the  day  before.  But 
you  need  not  go  out  beaten  and  humble  if  you  know 
that  you  have  the  clue  to  one,  at  least,  of  Nature's 

36 


TEE  STUDENT 

secrets.  Nothing  is  ever  produced  by  a  poor  victim. 
You  can  be  master  of  your  intention. 

It  may  be  possible  that  you  will  think  that  I  am 
telling  you  how  to  paint,  and  urging  a  method  as  a 
means  of  salvation.  I  have  nothing  of  the  sort  for 
you.  Rules  often  reverse  and  methods  are  adapted 
only  to  special  cases.  Principles  alone  remain  steady. 
They  will  lead  you  in  a  general  direction,  but  the 
ways  are  many  of  reaching  a  given  point.  There  is 
no  substitute  for  intelligence. 

These  instructions  are  intended  to  show  you 
what  important  things  you  must  consider  in  be- 
ginning your  picture,  rather  than  any  special  way 
of  painting  it.  They  are  to  help  you  to  record  what 
you  actually  see  in  one  glance,  not  what  you  think 
about  a  particular  spot,  and  they  will  furnish  you 
with  the  setting  of  your  thought. 

For  instance,  you  may  be  interested  in  a  rock  on 
the  hillside,  but  the  bigger  fact,  the  hillside,  must 
be  right  before  the  rock  can  have  any  place  to  stay. 
There  is  a  beauty  of  great  relations  that  lies  behind 
the  interest  of  any  single  fact,  and  unless  you  see 
it  in  tliat  way,  your  pictures  will  be  mere  gossip, 

37 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

harmless,  perhaps,  but  of  purely  personal  impor- 
tance. If  you  catch  yourself  considering  a  small  bush 
and  forgetting  the  great  slope  of  the  land,  you  may 
be  sure  that  you  are  dealing  with  minor  facts.  You 
have  to  go  back  and  create  from  the  start. 

To  put  this  in  another  way,  our  pochade  is  like 
a  picture  seen  from  too  great  a  distance.  It  is  the 
summing-up  of  many  details  into  a  few  large  masses, 
a  statement  of  conditions,  a  weather  report,  but 
nothing  is  said  of  what  we  think  of  the  day. 

You  can  readily  see  the  importance  of  being  able 
to  form  a  very  quick  judgment,  as  to  the  balancing 
of  these  masses,  and  in  the  end  it  must  become  so 
instinctive  that  it  is  scarcely  a  question  of  thought 
at  all.  We  deliberately  acquire  a  habit  and  save  our 
minds  for  the  point  of  our  story. 

Habits  have  an  evil  name,  but  we  live  by  them. 
Once  they  were  conscious  thought,  then  through 
repetition  we  forgot  and  they  became  a  general  atti- 
tude. It  seems  very  clear  that  we  should  be  partic- 
ular about  the  seed  and  know  exactly  what  we  are 
planting. 

Each  experience  is  passed  or^  to  the  subconscious 

38 


TEE  STUDENT 

mind,  there  to  be  weighed  and  returned  with  others 
as  Instinctive  judgment.  Since  we  have  control  of 
at  least  part  of  the  material  that  goes  to  that  mind, 
we  should  assure  ourselves  as  to  Its  quality.  There 
is  not  much  to  be  hoped  for  from  facts  which  are 
not  so.  But  consider  the  happy  day  when  you  are 
right  without  thinking,  when  the  sketch  is  good 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  the  hand  does  not  need 
close  watching.  It  is  a  pity  to  spoil  this  vision,  but 
I  have  to  tell  you  that  a  time  will  come  when 
you  will  need  all  the  minds  you  have,  for  as  yet  you 
are  only  recorders,  and  conclusions  have  not  been 
drawn. 

For  the  present  let  us  think  only  of  conditions. 
The  attempt  to  see  In  a  large  way  is  the  point. 
Your  studies  are  not  of  much  Importance,  but  you 
cannot  overvalue  the  mental  effort. 

Nature  does  a  great  many  things  that  are  be- 
yond the  limits  of  either  your  taste  or  invention. 
Sketching  sounds  like  a  light  and  pleasant  amuse- 
ment, and  so  It  may  well  be  if  that  is  your  caliber. 
They  say  that  familiar  knowledge  breeds  con- 
tempt, but  I  doubt  if  it  is  equally  true  of  wisdom. 

39 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

We  may  know  a  great  many  things  about  trees, 
and  rocks,  and  water,  and  sky;  then  the  day 
changes  the  balance  and  we  think  of  them  all  in  a 
new  way. 

Detail  you  will  learn;  the  right  kind  does  not 
complicate  but  amplifies.  Your  individual  good 
sense  would  enable  you  to  make  things  harmonious, 
but  Nature  will  do  something  that  is  perfectly 
unexpected  and  far  beyond  any  one's  invention. 
Always  would  I  go  to  Nature  for  the  big  color 
relations.  I  should  consider  beyond  that,  that  I 
might  reasonably  expect  to  supply  from  my  ex- 
perience the  necessary  details.  I  should  always 
hope,  however,  to  have  a  direct  color  sketch  of 
four  or  five  related  tones  as  a  basis  for  my  picture, 
and  never  have  such  an  appalling  amount  of 
knowledge  as  to  find  it  unnecessary. 

It  is  customary  to  have  certain  definite  problems 
given  out  each  week,  to  be  done  out  of  class.  This 
week  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  make  nine  sketches 
of  one  subject  under  varying  conditions. 

The  sketches  should  look  complete,  but  when 
you  examine  closely  you  find  they  are  done  in 

40 


TEE  STUDENT 

three  or  four  very  simple,  flat  tones.  You  see  the 
same  tree  painted  at  difi^erent  times  of  the  day, 
under  various  phases  of  Hght  and  sky.  In  each  one 
the  color  depends  on  the  sky,  and  there  is  con- 
sequently a  definite  difference  in  the  greens.  To 
carry  the  sketches  on  to  completion  would  be  a 
matter  of  a  very  short  time,  for  though  these  few 
tones  seem  abstract  to  you,  the  modulation  of  the 
edges  and  the  addition  of  a  small  amount  of  detail 
would  immediately  give  them  the  look  of  reality. 
That  Is  the  problem  for  next  week. 

Select  something  that  is  capable  of  Interesting 
variations,  and  go  to  it  at  different  times  on  dif- 
ferent days.  Each  sketch  should  not  take  more 
than  half  an  hour,  and  when  they  are  put  side  by 
side,  they  should  show  a  definite  variation,  and  at 
most  only  superficial  repetition. 

The  changes  of  light  bring  different  color  divi- 
sions and  you  will  have  a  new  design  each  time. 
Nature  does  not  vary  in  form,  but  what  we  see 
both  of  form  and  color  depends  on  light.  You  will 
notice  that  what  I  am  recommending  you  to  do 
will  resemble  a  poster,  a  Japanese  print,  or  even 

41 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

a  child's  painting;  but  the  difference  lies  in  the  fact 
that  the  few  large  tones  are  the  deliberate  summing- 
up  of  Nature's  details,  and  are  related  in  accord- 
ance with  the  special  conditions  of  light.  ' 

A  few  words  now  about  technique,  so  that  there 
may  be  no  misunderstanding  as  to  its  importance. 
It  is  a  poor  thing  that  cannot  be  abused,  and  I  do 
not  want  you  to  be  afraid  of  the  word,  or  to  sur- 
round it  with  mystery.  i 
X There  is  no  mystery  about  it;  neither  is  there 
right  nor  wrong,  but  there  is  good  and  bad. 

Technique  is  clear  expression  of  what  you  see  or 
feel.  A  Raphael  Madonna  in  the  manner  of  Monet 
would  be  bad  technique,  for  it  would  have  more 
atmosphere  than  holiness.  Or  if  you  put  your  re- 
quest for  a  ticket  at  the  North  Station  in  the 
form  of  a  sonnet  or  short  song,  you  would  be 
blamed  for  it;  but  the  form  would  not  be  really 
wrong,  and  under  other  circumstances  might  even 
bring  you  the  cordial  appreciation  of  a  generous 
public.  Fit  your  means  to  the  end  you  have  in  view. 

The  basis  of  all  painting  is  drawing,  and  drawing 
is  a  combination  of  mind  and  hand,  and  the  root 

42 


I 


TEE  STUDENT 

of  all  detail.  It  may  take  a  few  years  at  the  Art 
School  to  train  the  hand,  but  the  training  of  the 
mind  has  less  definite  limits  and  should  go  on  for 
the  rest  of  your  natural  life. 

You  do  not  start  with  a  totally  untrained  hand, 
even  though  you  may  never  have  drawn,  for  it  has 
been  taught  from  childhood  more  or  less  to  obey 
the  will.  There  will  be  what  amounts  to  a  spon- 
taneous technique,  for  the  hand  is  always  skillful 
enough  to  make  some  sort  of  response  to  a  direct- 
ing mind.  The  initial  trouble  is  farther  back  than 
the  hand,  and  higher  up. 

In  the  work  we  have  to  do  in  the  class,  I  am 
not  trying  to  save  you  from  the  drudgery  of  train- 
ing that  you  must  necessarily  go  through  be- 
fore you  are  able  to  express  yourself  accurately. 
It  seems  logical  enough  to  begin  with  the  study  of 
ourselves  and  the  effect  of  Nature  on  us,  in  order 
to  get  a  clear  idea  as  to  what  we  are  trying  to  do. 
We  avail  ourselves  of  whatever  little  skill  we  may 
possess,  and  for  the  time  being  it  is  enough,  for 
it  does  not  require  a  great  deal,  to  render  general 
forms.  Later  you  will  come  to  the  point  which 

43 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

you  cannot  pass  without  thorough  technical  knowl- 
edge. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  week,  I  am  fully  conscious 
that  already  many  a  hope  has  been  blighted  and 
that  we  face  an  uncertain  future.  Rules  seem  to 
offer  us  no  prospect  of  support,  and  we  have  not 
only  to  consider  Nature  in  our  attempt  to  represent 
her,  but  we  have  to  take  ourselves  into  account  as 
well.  It  promises  to  be  a  complicated  matter. 

We  are  told  that  a  picture  is  not  merely  an  af- 
fair of  putting  on  paint,  our  intentions  have  been 
questioned,  the  evidence  of  our  eyes  has  been 
doubted,  and  even  the  orderly  working  of  our 
minds  seems  to  be  under  suspicion. 

It  is  not  easy  to  fix  the  mind  on  fundamental 
things,  but  you  do  not  begin  until  you  can  do  so, 
no  matter  how  much  work  has  gone  before. 

Why  paint  or  talk  to  tell  unimportant  truths 
that  any  one  can  see,  but  would  rather  not  be 
obliged  to?  Unless  your  contribution  is  something 
better  than  gossip,  it  is  scarcely  worth  the  trouble. 
Penetrate,  but  do  not  bore. 

You  are  not  the  slaves  of  Nature,  though  you 

44 


TEE  STUDENT 

must  be  able  to  follow  closely  before  you  have  the 
right  to  command.  The  modern  tendency  is  to  look 
for  the  unusual,  probably  because  it  gives  a  fresh 
sensation  to  a  somewhat  jaded  taste.  There  is 
much  good  that  may  come  out  of  it,  but  one  has 
to  pursue  the  search  with  a  thoroughly  open  mind. 
Queerness  alone  is  not  genius,  though  genius  may 
be  equally  incomprehensible  to  us  of  moderate  in- 
telligence. 

We  must  know  what  there  is  to  know,  of  Nature 
and  of  ourselves.  Beyond  that  we  are  free  and  our 
place  waits  for  us. 


II 

In  the  tangle  of  Nature,  unless  we  have  some 
definite  guide,  we  are  lost.  The  complications  are 
endless;  our  sensation  is  induced  by  some  of  them, 
but  not  by  all.  We  must  have  means  of  picking  out 
those  incidents  that  give  us  the  mental  impression. 

The  world  in  front  of  us  has  a  thousand  stories 
told  on  a  single  page.  As  we  look  our  interest  cen- 
ters, and  it  is  one  story  only  that  we  read.  The 
others  exist  as  general  conditions  like  the  hum  of 
the  crowd  behind  the  words  we  are  hearing.  If  our 
attention  wanders,  and  we  mix  the  events  of  one 
story  with  those  of  another,  we  lose  the  thread  of 
the  narrative  and  nothing  has  happened.  We  say, 
"Why,  yes,  of  course,  but  what  of  it?"  There  is 
neither  wisdom  nor  interest  in  isolated  words  or 
facts.  We  do  not  go  to  the  dictionary  in  time  of 
trouble,  though  all  of  the  words  are  there  that 
would  answer  our  questions. 

Nine  people  out  of  ten  assume  that  a  picture  is 

46 


TEE  STUDENT 

a  direct  imitation  and  that  the  painter  has  nothing 
to  do  but  copy  as  best  he  can.  This  is  fundamen- 
tally wrong,  for  if  it  were  possible  to  reproduce 
Nature  exactly,  the  result  would  be  at  best  only 
a  lifeless  counterfeit.  The  movies  are  better,  even 
though  they  lack  color,  for  they  move  and  in  that 
are  nearer  to  Nature  than  any  picture  could  be. 
A  picture  is  an  entirely  different  matter.  It  is  an 
individual  interest  in  a  given  spot  and  may  fail  to 
have  much  general  significance.  This  is  neither  for 
nor  against  it.  It  might  well  happen  that  one's  per- 
sonal interest  is  so  special  as  to  be  shared  by  very 
few  people  indeed,  and  many  a  painter  faces  this 
situation.  It  is  here  that  he  must  definitely  decide 
what  he  wants  most,  for  lack  of  appreciation  is 
the  price  he  pays  for  his  own  personal  taste.  It  is 
better  to  be  clear  about  this  in  the  beginning,  for 
if  we  long  to  be  appreciated  it  is  a  job  in  itself  and 
we  should  give  our  full  mind  to  it.  One  of  the  mis- 
takes a  painter  makes  is  the  assumption  that  he  is 
different  from  the  rest  of  the  world.  He  may  like 
what  others  do  not,  but  he  is  nevertheless  human. 
He  gets  his  sensations  in  exactly  the  same  way  as 

47 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

do  other  people.  He  is  the  same  and  more  so.  This 
is  his  only  chance,  for  if  his  talent  were  a  special 
sense  there  would  be  no  one  to  understand  it  but 
himself. 

Mankind  sees,  but  sees  badly  —  thinks,  and 
thinks  loosely.  Thinking  and  seeing  are  inseparable, 
for  the  eyes  cannot  focus  on  a  spot  without  con- 
scious thought.  Try  it.  When  we  let  our  eyes  and 
our  attention  rest  on  an  object,  we  lose  conscious- 
ness of  the  unrelated  surroundings;  it  is  an  auto- 
matic selection  by  both  eyes  and  brain.  We  choose 
what  we  see,  whether  we  are  painters  or  not.  The 
world  is  objective  to  us  only  at  the  point  where 
our  eyes  and  mind  touch  it.  There  thought  and 
sight  combine.  All  else  becomes  general  and  sub- 
jective, to  be  rearranged,  however,  as  soon  as  the 
eye  passes  to  another  object. 

You  may  ask  why  a  picture,  complete  in  every 
detail,  should  not  stand  in  the  place  of  Nature  and 
give  us  the  same  reaction.  There  are  two  reasons. 
One  is  that  the  picture  is  so  small  that  the  whole 
of  it  is  practically  In  focus,  though  representing 
objects  widely  apart.  And  the  other  is,  that  the 

48 


TEE  STUDENT 

painter  directs  that  you  should  look  at  what  in- 
terests him. 

This  is  a  starting-point,  and  from  now  on  we  are 
much  misunderstood  people,  for  we  are  going  to 
be  blamed  for  failing  in  what  we  are  not  even  trying 
to  do.  How  often  we  hear  it  said  of  a  picture,  "Na- 
ture does  not  look  like  that";  and,  "I  never  saw 
such  colors  anywhere."  These  persons  are  prob- 
ably right,  for  the  facts  they  gather  are  unrelated. 
They  take  a  census  of  Nature,  a  catalogue  of 
things,  useful  but  not  literary.  Even  the  cook  picks 
out  the  materials  she  wishes  to  use  for  her  pud- 
ding, and  their  identity  is  lost  in  the  final  result. 
No  one  feels  undue  pride  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
components  of  that  pudding,  not  even  the  cook 
herself. 

For  some  reason,  it  always  seems  insulting  to 
doubt  what  any  one  sees.  Probably  it  is  because 
the  truthfulness  of  the  eye  is  taken  for  granted, 
and  it  is  the  owner's  veracity  that  is  in  question.  I 
hope  as  we  go  on,  you  will  allow  me  to  criticize 
your  vision,  from  time  to  time,  without  implying 
that  your  honesty  is  involved.  We  shall  begin  In 

49 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

the  spirit  of  the  much  surprised  person,  who,  under 
pressure  of  a  new  idea,  doubts  his  own  eyes.  We 
shall  at  least  question  ours  and  satisfy  ourselves 
that  we  know  what  we  see,  rather  than  see  what 
we  know.  It  may  be  that  we  shall  find  that  our  eyes 
have  been  closed  by  our  minds,  for  it  is  very  easy 
for  an  established  thought  to  disconnect  our  eyes 
and  our  minds  altogether. 

From  childhood  we  are  warned  against  things 
that  are  not  so  —  we  may  not  even  tell  them,  —  but 
now  I  warn  you  against  the  things  that  are  so. 
You  may  be  good  without  the  warning,  but  you 
never  can  be  great.  Which  simply  means  to  say, 
you  must  always  have  an  open  mind,  unclogged 
by  prejudice  or  habit,  and  be  ready  to  take  each 
fresh  impression  and  weigh  it  as  though  it  had 
never  happened  before.  You  might  find  something 
new.  Remember  that  the  privilege  of  seeing  a  blue 
horse  is  lost  by  those  who  know  that  horses  are  not 
that  color. 

Now,  having  warned  you  that  you  must  be  very 
careful  not  to  allow  the  mind  to  influence  the  sight, 
I  have  to  tell  you  that  there  are  many  times  when 

50 


THE  STUDENT 

the  eyes  are  entirely  misleading  without  a  previ- 
ous knowledge  of  the  facts.  The  baby  reaches  for 
the  moon,  for  example;  sometimes  older  people  do 
also;  but  experience  teaches  us  that  the  brightness 
is  a  long  way  off,  and  it  generally  looks  so. 

We  judge  distance  because  we  know  that  form 
seems  to  diminish  as  it  goes  away  from  us,  and  we 
are  doubtful  whether  our  drawing  looks  like  a  bowl 
or  a  dome  until  we  know  which  it  is  supposed  to  be. 
We  see  solid  form  by  a  series  of  characteristic  facts 
that  we  know  to  mean  mass,  and  so  it  goes  on. 

I  should  question  both  eyes  and  mind  and  use 
one  to  check  the  other.  You  cannot  trust  either 
of  them. 

I  have  indicated  to  you  the  structural  form  of 
your  picture.  It  is  a  definite  spot  as  a  center  of 
interest,  a  concrete  shape  associated  with  minor 
forms  which  serve  to  explain  it.  In  addition  are 
the  general  forms  and  color  masses  which  represent 
the  conditions  of  life  and  place. 

You  have  to  begin  with  generalities,  and  it  Is 
no  misfortune.  You  are  qualifying  yourselves  for 
the  object  of  your  choice.  Later  you  have  to  weigh 

51 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

facts  in  order  to  determine  their  relative  impor- 
tance, keeping  some  and  throwing  away  others,  but 
at  present  I  am  making  it  easy  for  you  by  telling 
you  to  hold  only  to  general  considerations.  You 
commonly  know  Nature  by  objects,  about  most 
of  which  you  have  formed  some  opinion.  Deprived 
of  these,  you  enter  a  new  world  altogether  where 
you  have  no  preconceived  ideas  and  you  make  a 
fresh  start.  It  is  better  than  signing  the  pledge  not 
to  indulge  in  detail,  especially  as  we  may  need  to 
take  a  little  of  it  later,  for  purely  public  reasons. 

There  is  one  more  question  to  ask  in  regard  to 
our  eyes.  What  happens  when  we  see  color?  It  Is 
nothing  that  we  can  put  into  words  any  further 
than  to  describe  the  conditions  and  say  whether 
we  like  them  or  not.  It  does  not  in  itself  raise 
any  train  of  thought  except  by  suggestion,  and 
is  a  pure  sensation.  The  color  that  you  put  on 
to  a  picture  is  not  an  imitation,  but  the  source 
Itself  of  our  sensation.  Form  Is  represented,  but 
color  Is  actual.  We  can  thrill  with  the  scientist 
when  he  tells  us  that  color  Is  a  matter  of  wave 
lengths  in  a  hypothetical  medium,  but  he  does  not 

52 


THE  STUDENT 

tell  us  why  one  wave  length  should  be  agreeable 
and  another  the  reverse.  There  is  nothing  we  can 
get  from  him.  Who  knows  if  we  all  have  the  same 
sensation?  There  is  no  way  of  proving  it.  The  color- 
blind person  loses  a  part  of  what  the  rest  of  us 
have,  and  even  we  may  be  insensitive  to  a  greater 
or  less  degree.  Some  see  warm  with  one  eye  and 
cold  with  the  other,  and  it  is  said  that  tobacco  will 
limit  the  vision  for  red.  There  is  no  such  thing  as 
uniformity  in  color  sensation.  Each  person  has  his 
own,  and  even  that  is  not  constant,  for  it  varies 
continually  with  the  condition  of  nerves  and  phys- 
ical state. 

While  all  of  this  Is  true,  it  is  a  matter  of  very 
small  importance  to  the  painter,  for  he  deals  in  the 
relations  of  color  and  never  in  one  color  by  itself. 
He  can  use  his  warm  eye  or  his  cold  eye  and  come 
to  the  same  result  with  either,  for  the  difference 
would  be  only  one  of  tone. 

If  we  stop  to  consider,  there  is  very  little  in 
sight,  or  life,  or  doing,  that  can  be  isolated  and 
retain  its  value.  It  is  in  the  relations  where  the 
quality  lies. 

S3 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

So  the  word  is  to  compare,  whether  it  is  form, 
or  color,  or  thought.  There  is  nothing  that  you  can 
say  about  the  Hteral  that  will  be  of  the  slightest 
importance.  Unless  you  are  very  careful  you  will 
find  yourself  trying  to  imitate  each  color  for  itself, 
and  you  will  not  feel  at  all  conspicuous  through 
your  success. 

Remember  that  you  are  dealing  with  a  sensation, 
and  that  you  are  feeling  the  relation  and  not  the 
separate  colors.  It  is  a  very  easy  matter  to  adjust 
one  in  reference  to  another,  but  almost  impossible 
to  be  so  exactly  right  as  to  paint  them  independ- 
ently. If  there  is  any  easy  way  that  is  blameless, 
you  had  better  take  it. 

The  Dutch  painters  talk  of  "color  in  tone,"  and 
it  means  color  implied;  like  painting  a  red-headed 
person,  not  with  red  paint,  but  with  the  balance 
of  color  so  suggested  that  a  very  little  warmth 
seems  red.  Imply  your  color  rather  than  actually 
paint  it,  which  does  not  mean  that  you  must  be 
dull  or  colorless.  It  is  all  a  matter  of  relations. 

You  may  grasp  everything  I  say,  but  it  will  not 
become  your  thought  until  you  have  tested  it. 

54 


TEE  STUDENT 

You  will  hold  it  in  your  mind  and  some  day  you 
will  invent  it  for  yourself,  and  then  it  will  be  yours. 
Do  not  accept  things  without  trying  them.  Test 
everything  I  tell  you,  for  some  of  it  may  not  be 
true.  ■;' 

In  a  general  way  we  have  considered  the  me- 
chanics of  impression;  it  may  seem  elaborate  and 
unnecessary,  for  in  the  end  all  you  do  is  to  go 
out  and  paint,  unconscious  of  the  complexities  of 
thought  and  sight.  At  such  a  time  you  certainly 
cannot  be  bothered  with  self-analysis,  principles, 
or  even  rules.  The  gun  is  loaded  and  you  have  to 
shoot.  It  is  when  you  examine  what  you  have  hit 
that  all  of  this  knowledge  is  necessary.  Or,  If  per- 
haps you  did  not  hit  anything,  you  can  find  out 
how  to  take  a  better  aim  in  the  future.  All  that  is 
needed  is  to  put  down  what  you  see.  But  you  see 
as  you  are  and  not  all  that  there  is  to  be  seen. 

You  will  notice  that  our  model  picture  is  a  single 
thought  or  interest  with  all  else  subordinate,  and 
with  irrelevant  material  entirely  left  out.  This  is 
not  accepted  by  every  painter,  though  I  believe 
that  the  great  pictures  of  the  world  answer  these 

55 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

conditions.  It  is  not  in  any  way  degree  of  finish, 
but  rather  of  emphasis,  that  characterizes  this 
conception  of  a  picture.  A  fact  of  minor  importance 
may  be  thoroughly  elaborated  so  long  as  we  never 
forget  that  it  is  minor.  The  minute  it  becomes  ob- 
trusive it  loses  its  secondary  place. 

There  is  a  certain  order  of  picture  that  we  all 
know,  so  intimately  painted  that  there  is  nothing 
left  unsaid.  The  execution  is  marvelous  and  we  are 
filled  with  wonder  that  any  man  should  be  so  skill- 
ful. True  enough,  we  forget  what  it  is  all  about  in 
our  joy  in  the  verisimilitudes;  but  does  it  matter? 
A  completely  realized  picture  is  canned  emotion. 

Don't  tell  all  that  you  know;  some  of  it  might  be 
impertinent;  let  the  other  fellow  do  a  little  guessing. 
What  is  too  definitely  limited  is  prevented  from 
being  bigger  than  its  limits.  Create  an  interest  by 
painting  toward  a  possibility;  never  take  anything 
to  the  top-notch,  because  after  that  comes  anti- 
climax; but  promise  something  greater  to  happen 
next.  Never  touch  your  highest;  show  that  you  can 
go  higher  if  you  choose  —  but  don't  choose! 

When  you  know  only  a  little  you  will  want  to 

S6 


TEE  STUDENT 

tell  it  all,  but  later  you  will  be  content  to  use 
merely  what  is  necessary  for  the  immediate  object. 
The  constructive  way  is  to  have  a  knowledge  of 
all  things  plus  the  knowledge  of  how  few  you  need 
for  expression.  Know  the  conditions  that  make  two 
thirds  of  your  knowledge  unnecessary'.  It  takes  far 
less  to  create  an  impression  than  one  would  natu- 
rally suppose,  provided  you  use  the  suitable  means. 
Eliminate,  but  do  not  mutilate.  The  latter  is 
cruelty,  or  ignorance,  or  both.  Ease  implies  hard 
work  somewhere,  for  freedom  comes  only  with 
intimate  knowledge.  Skill  ought  to  make  you  more 
capable  of  conveying  the  sensation  of  the  moment, 
and  not  result  in  mannerisms  and  types  of  days. 

My  general  impression  is  that  a  painter  should 
be  a  very  intelligent  person,  for,  in  the  summing- 
up,  we  are  bound  to  admit  that  we  come  in  the 
end  to  individual  opinion,  a  preference  without  the 
possibility  of  proof.  We  are  not  in  any  worse 
situation,  however,  than  is  the  scientist  with  his 
molecule  and  his  atom,  which  are  useless  to  him 
without  force,  the  unexplainable;  or  the  biologist, 
whose  unknown  is  life.  We  call  ours  the  personal 

57 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

equation,  and  we  are  lucky  to  have  it.  We  will 
label  it  talent,  if  you  like,  or  genius,  or  tempera- 
ment, or  X,  if  you  are  mathematically  minded, 
but  whatever  its  name  may  be,  it  is  the  determin- 
ing factor.  It  is  a  factor,  however,  and  the  rest  of 
the  equation  is  knowledge;  general,  special,  useful, 
useless,  any  kind  of  knowledge,  so  long  as  you 
draw  from  it  the  sense  of  law  and  order  in  the 
universe.  If  I  have  to  take  a  man's  opinion,  I 
choose  my  man.  I  would  not  place  my  trust  in  a 
tramp,  though  he  were  temperamental,  or  even  in 
a  distinguished  specialist,  but  I  would  find  one 
of  generally  sound  judgment,  whose  knowledge  of 
many  things  gives  him  the  power  of  instinctive 
rightness. 

There  are  no  rules  for  painting,  and  yet  it  Is 
undeniable  that  some  pictures  are  better  than 
others.  Some  are  interesting  without  being  good, 
and  some  good,  but  with  no  interest,  quite  like  the 
people  who  make  them.  A  picture  is  so  like  its 
author,  that  one  might  in  a  general  way  recon- 
struct the  person  from  it.  If  you  make  a  definite 
record  of  the  things  that  interest  you  as  they  pass, 

S8 


TEE  STUDENT 

you  show  your  choice  and  the  sort  of  person  you 
are.  The  subject-matter  may  be  commonplace, 
the  incidents  trivial,  and  yet  they  may  have  a 
definite  bearing  on  some  large  principle;  in  that 
you  will  find  a  standard.  Art  is  choice. 

We  have  many  circumstances  to  deal  with. 
Some  people  are  so  appreciative  as  to  like  every- 
thing, but  they  run  the  serious  danger  of  being 
promiscuous.  The  real  painter  is  the  one  who 
chooses  from  the  trivialities  those  which  are  sig- 
nificant. The  external  appearance  of  Nature  is  of 
slight  importance  in  itself;  it  is  also  indeterminate. 
What  we  see  depends  on  what  we  happen  to  be; 
not  only  on  our  permanent  qualities,  but  on  the  pas- 
sing ones  as  well.  A  bad  dinner  will  not  alter  our 
view  of  the  world,  but  it  may  bend  it  temporarily. 

If  I  suggest  to  you  a  system,  it  is  to  provide  that 
your  thought  may  be  orderly.  We  pass  from  the 
general  to  the  special  with  a  sure  means  of  measure- 
ment for  the  minor  things.  Our  large  color  planes 
may  seem  arbitrary,  but  they  are  the  sums  of 
many  other  smaller  color  patches,  existing  within 
their  limits. 

59 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

The  next  step  will  be  in  the  way  of  self -justifi- 
cation, for  if  we  are  so  bold  as  to  cut  the  world  up 
into  a  few  large  pieces,  the  public  has  a  right  to 
know  what  we  mean  by  it.  We  separate  the  trees 
from  the  sky  by  a  general  contour  line,  but  that  is 
good  only  so  long  as  we  consider  simply  color  mass. 
If  we  think  of  them  as  trees,  it  will  be  necessary  to 
modify  our  line  to  show  how  a  tree  meets  a  sky, 
and  it  will  be  in  accordance  with  its  personal  char- 
acter as  well  as  its  kind.  I  am  not  speaking  of  out- 
line in  the  ordinary  sense,  but  rather  the  alterna- 
tion on  the  edge  between  the  sharp  and  the  vague 
which  is  caused  by  the  play  of  light  and  the  char- 
acter of  surface  it  falls  on.  We  know  things  in 
Nature  very  largely  by  their  edges,  and  if  these 
are  made  characteristic  we  have  gone  a  long  step 
toward  representation.  Do  not  think  that  this  is 
an  easy  matter,  though  it  may  be  done  by  a  touch 
here  and  there,  a  sharpening  of  one  place  and  the 
blurring  of  another.  The  character  of  that  tree  is 
at  your  mercy.  Who  ever  thinks  of  a  ladylike  pine, 
or  expects  to  find  softness  about  it?  It  may  bend 
or  break,  but  it  will  not  soften.  Yet  the  needles  are 

60 


TEE  STUDENT 

soft  enough,  if  you  think  only  of  them  and  forget 
the  tree  that  carries  them.  When  you  can  only  say 
a  little  about  a  person,  do  not  tell  me  the  size  of 
his  collar.  If  you  mention  it,  I  might  think  it  his 
chief  claim  to  distinction  or  at  least  a  determining 
factor.  Give  me  his  political  opinions;  I  may  want 
to  know  him.  Remember  the  character  of  things 
you  are  dealing  with,  if  it  is  only  on  the  edge. 
Beyond  the  meeting-line  we  take  very  much  for 
granted,  whether  it  is  with  trees  or  people.  Paint 
your  mass  flat;  we  will  guess  at  the  leaves  if  you 
show  us  that  we  ought  to. 

Do  you  realize  what  it  means  when  the  sky  and 
the  water  meet  in  a  line  that  makes  half  our 
horizon?  A  pond  would  not  do  that;  it  is  possible 
only  for  the  Great  Lakes  or  the  ocean.  These  di- 
visions mean  large  things  in  their  simplicity  and 
are  not  arbitrary.  Our  personal  choice  comes,  in  the 
placing  on  the  canvas,  for  there  we  can  give  the 
prominence  of  space  to  the  mass  in  which  we  are 
interested.  If  our  interest  is  sky,  we  would  nat- 
urally give  it  more  room  than  the  water,  putting 
the  horizon  low,  and  reverse  the  proportion  if  our 

6i 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

picture  were  of  a  wave.  The  facts  before  us  would 
be  the  same  in  either  case. 

There  are  no  rules  for  placing  except  those  of 
common  sense.  Make  your  point  clearly.  The  faults 
in  composition  are  only  such  matters  as  detract 
from  the  interest.  One  can  imply  much  by  the 
arrangement  of  the  large  masses.  I  remember  won- 
dering why  a  painted  Dutch  windmill  never  gave 
the  impression  of  size  until  I  found  a  picture  in 
which  the  top  of  the  mill  was  cut  by  the  frame  and 
the  size  was  fully  expressed.  There  was  a  drawing, 
too,  of  an  elephant  so  crowded  into  the  space  as 
to  give  the  feeling  that  there  was  not  enough  room 
for  so  large  a  creature. 

These  are  matters  of  suggestion,  and  it  is  sig- 
nificant that  they  should  come  in  now  while  our 
thought  is  yet  so  general.  You  will  notice,  how- 
ever, that  the  suggestion  is  true  to  Its  order.  We 
think  of  large  divisions  and  feel  size.  If  our  minds 
were  on  one  object,  other  objects  would  be  im- 
plied. The  lesson  is,  If  you  wish  to  be  big  you  must 
be  so  from  the  start.  Size  belongs  to  essentials  and 
cannot  be  added  as  an  Incident.  You  can  be  king 

62 


1 


THE  STUDENT 

of  trifles  later,  and  it  is  a  distinguished  situation 
so  long  as  you  measure  with  your  own  people,  but 
if  you  stray  into  the  world,  you  may  have  to  w^ear 
just  a  hat  and  leave  the  crown  behind  you. 

I  wish  to  give  you  a  sense  of  the  dignity  of  great 
divisions  as  well  as  of  their  practical  importance. 

Having  made  our  world  of  a  few  large  pieces, 
we  are  fast  coming  to  the  time  when  we  will  take 
a  personal  interest  in  it.  You  will  have  to  recon- 
sider your  masses  then,  for  where  your  attention 
is  fixed,  there  you  will  see  more  intimately.  The 
tone  that  was  flat  will  be  made  of  a  number  of 
variations,  all  adding  up  to  the  original  sum.  So 
we  always  go  back  to  the  beginning. 

You  will  find  that  a  flat  tone  often  looks  dull, 
lacking  the  life  and  intensity  that  you  see  in 
Nature.  This  is  not  necessarily  because  your  color 
is  wrong,  but  for  a  totally  different  reason.  All  life 
is  change,  and  where  there  is  no  change,  in  the 
end,  consciousness  leaves.  Press  your  finger  on  the 
table  and  you  will  soon  forget  where  that  finger  is 
unless  you  press  again.  A  tone  made  of  broken 
color  will  keep  your  sensation  moving  from  one 

63 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

spot  to  another,  unconscious,  perhaps,  but  active. 
A  flat  tone  is  static  and  dead.  This  might  seem  an 
argument  for  painting  everything  in  spots,  and  so 
it  would  be  if  we  had  not  that  troublesome  future 
interest  of  ours  to  consider.  We  are  thankful  to 
have  Nature  keep  quiet  while  we  look  at  that  man 
on  the  beach;  and  in  the  painting  we  desire  that 
our  public  should  give  undivided  attention  to  the 
point  of  our  story,  and  we  refrain  from  being  too 
interesting  in  matters  of  only  general  importance. 
If  our  picture  depends  on  the  play  of  light  or  mo- 
tion or  unstable  and  shifting  conditions,  then  we 
should  use  every  means  to  unsettle  the  attention. 
So  do  not  be  disturbed  if  you  cannot  paint  the  sea 
as  blue  as  it  looks,  for  it  is  not  in  reality  one  color. 
No  blue  could  be  as  blue  as  that.  It  is  blue,  and 
brown,  and  green.  The  company  it  is  in  makes  it 
so  brilliant,  and  it  might  be  quite  dull  somewhere 
else.  Choose  your  company  if  you  want  to  shine. 

I  do  not  wish  to  complicate  matters  for  you  un- 
duly, but  there  are  a  few  warnings  that  you  may 
find  of  service.  A  sketch  has  a  way  of  looking  very 
respectable  out  of  doors,  but  disappointing  when 

64 


TEE  STUDENT 

it  is  brought  home.  This  is  because  the  Hght  out- 
side is  intense,  also  oftentimes  colored.  If  you  paint 
with  a  colored  light  on  your  canvas,  it  misleads 
you  as  to  what  you  are  actually  putting  on,  and 
you  will  find  to  your  sorrow  later  that  it  is  better 
not  to  shine  by  reflected  light.  A  red  rock  behind 
you  will  give  your  color  a  charm  that  is  not  in  the 
least  apparent  when  the  rock  is  no  longer  an  in- 
fluence. The  sunshine  on  your  canvas  will  lead  you 
to  think  you  have  done  it  at  last,  but  it  is  another 
gray  day  when  it  gets  to  the  studio.  Of  course,  in 
these  cases  you  miss  in  tone  rather  than  in  relation 
of  color  or  values,  but  that  is  enough  to  destroy  the 
beauty,  and  sometimes  even  the  meaning.  Sun- 
light, for  example,  is  so  essentially  yellow,  that 
cold  lights  in  a  landscape  will  suggest  anything  but 
the  sun  as  a  source.  This  does  not  apply  to  painting 
within  doors  where  the  lights  are  cold  and  the 
shadows  warm.  We  have  another  trouble  in  our 
blues,  which  rapidly  decrease  in  intensity  with 
failing  light  and  distance.  This  would  not  be  a 
matter  of  importance  if  all  colors  had  the  same 
rate  of  change,  but  3'OU  will  find  your  blue  dis- 

6s 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

appearing  long  before  the  others  are  affected,  and 
it  will  be  necessary  to  overstate  it  to  make  it  rela- 
tively true.  You  will  find  it  a  safe  rule  to  paint  all 
color  brighter  than  you  see  it,  as  much  is  lost  in 
the  dim  light  of  our  houses.  If  this  seems  to  you  a 
falsification  of  facts  that  we  have  taken  so  much 
trouble  to  establish,  let  me  remind  you  that  our 
object  is  to  re-create  a  sensation.  Facts  are  but 
raw  material.  The  world  is  our  oyster,  but  it  is 
better  for  the  salt  and  tabasco. 

Art  is  not  based  on  the  way  things  are,  but  upon 
things  as  you  see  and  feel  them.  Realism  is  after 
all  only  what  you  think  the  thing  may  be. 

To  sum  up,  we  begin  with  the  largest  aspects  of 
Nature,  sky  and  land.  Then,  dividing  again,  we 
have  sky,  water,  land,  and  trees,  such  things  as 
might  be  spelled  with  a  capital.  That  is  the  reduc- 
tion of  Nature's  forms  to  the  fundamental  ele- 
ments. When  we  look  at  Nature  we  see  it  colored, 
and  we  get  our  first  impression  in  that  way.  To 
start  your  picture  you  must  begin  with  those  color 
relations,  the  color  value  of  the  sky  to  the  color 
value  of  the  sea  and  land.  Now  these  values  are  de- 

66 


THE  STUDENT 

pendent  on  the  sky,  and  as  the  sky  changes  so  do 
all  other  things  change  in  accord  with  it.  In  order 
to  be  consistent,  we  must  directly  establish  the  re- 
lations and  stick  to  them.  We  must  have  a  true 
beginning  or  we  cannot  have  anything  but  empty 
endings.  Your  natural  tendency  will  be  to  imitate, 
but  I  have  cut  that  out  altogether  by  telling  you 
to  paint  an  average  which  does  not  exist.  It  is 
much  more  difficult  than  it  seems;  easy  to  state, 
but  far  from  easy  to  do.  You  have  the  problem  of 
reducing  a  thousand  small  spots  to  one  large  tone 
and  then  comparing  these  tones  until  they  are 
accurately  adjusted.  It  brings  it  to  a  question  of 
your  own  summing-up  and  your  own  opinion,  for 
Nature  offers  you  none  of  these  things  that  you 
state  as  facts. 

However  much  we  may  differ  in  personal  taste 
or  even  in  our  judgment  of  current  affairs,  if  we 
go  back  far  enough  we  shall  reach  the  point  of 
common  beliefs  which  we  call  general  principles. 
These  sketches  occupy  exactly  that  position,  and 
should  be  substantially  the  same,  whoever  paints 
them.  Later,  as  we  bring  our  individual  prefer- 

67 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

ences  into  play,  they  differentiate  and  no  longer 
look  like  the  work  of  one  person.  Originality  does 
not  mean  that  you  are  superior  to  law,  but  rather 
that  you  are  keener  than  others  to  discriminate 
between  law  and  custom.  A  picture  must  be  based 
on  the  great  considerations  of  color  values;  ac- 
quaint yourself  with  these,  for  they  are  the  law, 
and  beyond  them  all  else  is  custom  to  be  followed 
or  broken  as  it  seems  to  you  best. 

There  are  still  a  few  words  to  say  in  the  way 
of  general  advice.  It  is  better  to  be  definitely 
wrong  than  weak,  and  better  to  be  downright  bad 
than  tentative.  Be  definite  even  in  blunder;  make 
your  mistakes,  make  them  as  if  you  intended  them, 
and  they  will  get  by  sometimes.  But  if  you  are 
indefinite,  no  one  will  have  the  least  confidence  in 
your  art. 

Failure  is  not  always  disaster;  fail  if  you  have  to 
and  go  on;  a  quitter  always  loses.  Be  more  afraid 
of  your  successes,  for  you  should  be  aiming  at  what 
you  cannot  possibly  reach.  I  am  not  offering  the 
standard  of  the  perfectionist  which  is  in  reality  the 
mock  humility  of  the  egotist;  but  rather  a  general 

68 


TEE  STUDENT 

direction  with  the  better  always  a  little  beyond 
your  reach.  The  point  of  discouragement  is  where 
you  always  do  well,  never  better  or  worse;  it  takes 
the  devil  as  a  measure  to  make  mediocrity  even 
respectable.  No  extreme  is  good.  Pick  out  the  best 
of  all  and  be  forceful  and  delicate  at  the  same  time; 
have  full  color,  but  delicate  color;  always  a  certain 
reserve,  but  never  a  lack  of  vitality. 

One  of  the  characteristics  of  American  landscape 
is  that  it  has  a  virility  that  you  do  not  find  in 
Europe.  The  American  people  are  full  of  life,  and 
their  natural  expression  is  force.  We  are  not  slow 
in  action  and  we  are  quick-minded.  We  go  to  ex- 
tremes easily,  but  we  are  not  soft,  not  dreamers 
only.  The  art  that  will  come  from  America  will  be 
virile  like  our  air,  which  has  the  clearness  of  crystal. 
It  is  not  "atmosphere,"  but  a  medium  just  the 
same.  We  do  not  see  bare  Nature,  but  Nature  cov- 
ered with  a  medium  of  beauty.  The  air  in  Europe 
is  thicker,  and  gives  beautiful  color  effects,  but  I 
believe  it  is  foreign  to  our  temperaments.  Our  land 
has  a  touch  of  savagery,  and  we  are  to  make  good 
on  our  own  lines.  When  we  are  in  England,  we 

69 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

have  a  sense  of  long  cultivation;  that  everything 
has  been  made  artificial;  that  there  is  nothing  first- 
hand. But  we  are  a  new  people  making  a  new 
country  and  a  new  art;  we  are  also  made  by  the 
country  and  dominated  by  it.  Here  everything  is 
elemental;  the  hills  have  great  lines,  for  they  were 
scored  and  moulded  by  the  glacier  as  it  made  its 
way  to  the  sea.  The  ocean,  too,  placid  enough  at 
times,  is  boundless  force  quietly  held  in  check. 
Everything  about  us  suggests  elemental  force;  and 
unless  we  can  show  it  in  some  way,  we  are  clearly 
outside  our  environment. 

Force  through  delicacy  and  not  through  brutal- 
ity, and  the  question  is,  How  may  we  express  it? 


Ill 

Up  to  this  point  we  have  considered  Nature  in  a 
very  general  way.  No  one  thing  has  been  of  special 
importance  and  we  have  thought  only  of  the  simple 
color  pattern  formed  by  the  various  large  divisions 
of  our  subject. 

But  to  live  only  In  generalities  is  not  after  the 
fashion  in  which  most  of  us  are  made.  Who  bothers 
very  much  about  the  climate  so  long  as  the  weather 
suits  him?  Our  thought  is  in  the  present  and  we 
know  about  things.  The  painter  must  express  him- 
self through  objects  and  use  the  means  by  which 
they  are  ordinarily  identified.  I  want  to  keep  al- 
ways before  your  mind  the  fact  that  we  see  but 
very  little  and  take  a  great  deal  for  granted.  If 
in  painting  we  supply  that  little,  we  reconstruct 
the  mental  image  and  express  our  fact. 

We  know  by  experience  that  we  live  in  a  world 
of  solid  form;  but  form  looks  solid  to  us  by  reason 
of  the  shadow  it  casts  and  the  variation  of  light  and 
dark  which  shows  direction  of  surface.  Think  of 

71 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

the  letters  we  have  all  seen  made  only  of  shadows, 
but  with  the  rest  of  the  form  so  implied  as  to  seem 
completed. 

A  shadow  is  to  most  of  us  a  dark  spot,  but  so  is 
a  hole;  and  we  know  only  by  the  general  proba- 
bilities which  it  may  be.  There  are  other  qualities 
to  shadow  as  well  as  darkness,  and  it  is  likely  that 
though  we  do  not  necessarily  think  of  them,  they 
are  equally  important  in  forming  our  impression. 

If  a  shadow  is  darkness,  or,  better,  lack  of  light, 
there  must  also  be  a  lack  of  color  and  of  detail  as 
well,  for  color  is  light,  and  form  is  seen  only  when 
illuminated.  Our  shadow  must  be  a  balance  of 
these  three  qualities  to  be  accepted  and  classified 
without  thought.  Darkness  alone  is  not  enough.  I 
am  really  making  you  a  very  handsome  present  by 
telling  you  what  shadow  is  not,  and  we  may  even 
extract  from  it  a  comforting  and  sustaining  rule. 

Lack  of  color  is  neutrality,  and  a  shadow  will  be 
found  at  such  a  place  on  the  achromatic  scale  as 
its  value  may  determine.  It  is  modified,  however, 
by  local  conditions  and  turns  toward  the  color  on 
which  it  rests.  Neutrality  in  general  implies  lack 

72 


TEE  STUDENT 

of  attention,  objects  we  are  not  interested  in.  Even 
a  tentative  interest  destroys  the  neutral,  and  in 
an  affair  of  pigment,  we  find  a  color  in  place  of  a 
nonentity. 

There  is  the  neutral  scale,  to  be  sure,  but  it  ap- 
plies to  its  own  condition  of  light,  and  varies  in 
accordance  with  the  way  in  which  that  light 
changes.  This  means  only  that  all  color  is  relative 
as  we  have  remarked  before.  You  cannot  carry  your 
neutral  about  with  you  in  your  pocket  mixed  in  a 
tube  and  ready  for  use.  It  might  be  the  nicest  color 
you  could  find  all  day,  and  you  must  not  be  inter- 
ested or  even  bored.  Your  question  about  a  shadow 
answers  itself;  if  it  were  any  color  at  all,  would  n't 
you  know  it?  For  each  set  of  conditions  there  will 
be  the  corresponding  neutrals  and  they  change 
with  every  canvas  you  paint. 

Since  we  are  to  question  especially  what  is  ac- 
cepted as  common  fact,  let  us  doubt  for  a  moment 
the  darkness  of  shadow.  At  most  it  never  could 
be  black,  for  out  of  doors  there  is  always  between 
us  and  any  object,  a  film  of  white  light  reflected 
directly  from  surfaces  as  well  as  from  dust  and 

73 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

moisture.  Adding  to  this,  eyes  somewhat  dazzled, 
and,  more  important  than  all,  a  mind  full  of  the 
thought  of  light,  we  shall  find  no  great  degree  of 
darkness  possible  within  our  range  of  vision.  There 
are  dark  spots,  however,  though  somehow  they  do 
not  look  like  the  holes  that  we  find  now  and  again 
in  otherwise  well-regulated  canvases. 

My  question  is,  What  do  we  see?  Is  it  cause  or 
effect,  or  perhaps  both,  and  would  one  suggest  the 
other?  A  neutral  spot  without  detail,  in  surround- 
ings of  full  color  and  form,  shows  that  something 
has  happened,  and  we  are  likely  to  think  it  may  be 
shadow,  since  it  is  the  inevitable  result  of  that  con- 
dition. This  is  of  little  importance  unless  the  effect 
leads  us  to  overestimate  the  cause,  and  I  very 
much  suspect  that  it  does.  We  could  test  it  by 
eliminating  detail  and  color,  and  asking  if  such  a 
spot  would  suggest  darkness,  though  in  reality  as 
light  as  its  neighbors.  We  will  be  more  careful  as 
we  look  at  those  dark  spots.  They  are  not  as  inno- 
cent as  they  seem.  Or  have  we  been  taking  too 
much  for  granted  again,  and  trusting  in  obvious 
facts? 

74 


TEE  STUDENT 

We  have  gained  something,  however,  that  we 
can  use  very  well  later,  in  the  hint  that  the  effect 
could  increase  or  suggest  the  cause.  When  we 
finally  allow  ourselves  to  be  as  interesting  as  we 
really  may  be,  we  shall  need  all  that  we  know  of 
mental  technique.  Every  one  naturally  resents  the 
didactic,  and  if  we  can  present  our  fact  so  that  it 
may  be  drawn  as  an  inference,  we  enlist  the  mind 
of  our  audience  and  avoid  doing  violence  to  its 
pride,  especially  in  affairs  of  general  knowledge, 
such  as  how  Nature  ought  to  look.  Dangerous 
ground,  but  we  must  allow  others  to  do  a  little 
thinking,  though  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should 
not  direct  that  thought,  and  even  anticipate  the 
conclusion  if  we  do  not  appear  too  prominently 
ourselves. 

State  a  result  and  imply  the  cause  for  others  to 
discover.  It  gives  them  much  mental  stimulation 
if  sufficiently  obvious.  This  is  called  imagination 
and  is  a  credit  to  any  one  so  long  as  it  does  not  in- 
terfere with  the  practical.  Be  courteous  in  your 
painting.  Suggest  the  thought  so  that  the  other 
believes  it  to  be  his  own  discovery.  The  old  masters 

75 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

often  did  that,  if  we  may  judge  by  some  of  their 
admirers. 

If  we  can  imply  shadow  through  terms  of  light, 
we  have  expressed  the  minor  and  the  major  in  one 
word,  and  given  each  its  due  importance.  Our  first 
thought  will  be  of  dominating  light,  and  then  we 
shall  notice  the  shadows.  One  other  word  about 
the  neutral  before  we  come  to  our  rule.  However 
much  a  thing  of  the  moment  the  neutral  may  be, 
it  is  always  colder  than  the  sunlit  colors. 

Paint  your  shadows  neutral  and  modify  them 
with  the  local  color  on  which  they  fall. 

You  might  even  get  considerable  credit  that  you 
do  not  deserve,  by  allowing  your  mind  a  complete 
rest  and  painting  your  lights  warm  and  the  shadows 
cold,  for  that  is  their  permanent,  unvarying,  un- 
alterable relation. 

There  is  still  a  little  help  that  we  may  draw  from 
this  rule  before  we  proceed  to  doubt  it.  If  in  your 
pursuit  of  Beauty,  you  find  in  your  picture  some 
spot  that  does  not  seem  to  share  the  light  of  its 
surroundings,  it  may  be  too  dark,  but  more  likely 
is  too  cold  and  suggests  to  you  gratuitous  shadow. 

76 


TEE  STUDENT 

Beware  of  presents  of  that  sort,  even  If  you  make 
them  to  yourself.  It  is  not  done  by  well-informed 
people. 

We  cannot  have  our  rule  and  always  keep  it,  too, 
and  so  we  must  start  on  the  trail  of  the  exceptions. 
Special  conditions  will  modify  the  objective,  and 
that  is  the  class  to  which  all  rules  belong.  Principles 
belong  to  the  subjective,  and  vary  only  with  our 
imperfect  understanding.  A  reflected  light  will  so 
alter  a  harmless  shadow  as  to  render  it  noticeable 
instead  of  unobtrusive  as  it  naturally  should  be. 
It  is  generally  not  the  actual  change,  but  its  un- 
expectedness that  attracts  our  attention,  and  the 
rule  is  not  seriously  broken,  unless  in  our  excite- 
ment we  break  it  ourselves.  There  is  a  fatal  attrac- 
tion to  the  unusual,  and  the  tendency  is  to  magnify 
its  importance.  One  is  also  inclined  to  be  proud  of 
the  ability  to  see  fine  differences,  and  to  forget  to 
ask,  sometimes,  if  they  are  worth  seeing.  There  is 
a  parallel  to  this  in  the  imaginative  person  who 
finds  faces  in  clouds,  dogs'  heads  in  rocks,  and 
seems  generally  to  be  reminded  of  what  the  object 
is  not.  Personally  I  prefer  the  clouds  and  the  rocks. 

77 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

You  will  see  that  my  whole  thought  of  shadow 
is  that  it  serves  to  explain  and  suggest,  but  that 
we  naturally  look  at  the  light.  There  are  times 
when  shadow  is  dominant,  and  then  all  of  the  con- 
ditions are  altered  and  we  work  by  other  rules. 
Size  of  shadow  makes  a  difference,  then,  and  we 
note  another  exception.  If  you  ask  me  how  large  a 
shadow  may  be  before  it  gives  up  our  rule,  you 
will  have  to  tell  me  of  what  you  are  thinking  be- 
fore I  answer  the  question.  You  find  what  you  are 
looking  for  and  lose  other  things.  If  your  taste  is 
for  light,  you  know  of  shadow,  but  are  apt  to  for- 
get it.  You  take  it  as  a  matter  of  course;  needed, 
but  of  no  personal  interest.  It  would  be  certainly 
easier  if  we  could  give  up  all  vagueness  and  state 
our  measurements  in  inches;  but  sizes  vary,  and 
the  best  we  can  do  is  with  mental  proportions. 

When  we  said  last  week  that  color  is  a  sensa- 
tion, we  lifted  a  burden  that  science  cannot  carry. 
Not  that  we  mind  it,  for  that  is  what  we  are  here 
for;  but  I  see  endless  trouble  ahead  even  in  this 
small  matter.  We  can  be  fairly  definite  about  form, 
for  we  have  two  or  three  senses  with  which  to 

78 


1 


THE  STUDENT 

check  it.  Without  sight,  touch,  or  smell,  a  chair 
would  still  be  an  obstruction,  there  would  be  no 
argument  as  to  its  presence;  but  sensation  is  our 
own,  and  there  are  only  general  ways  of  comparing 
yours  and  mine.  What  is  a  matter  of  small  interest 
to  you  may  be  very  important  to  me.  When  we 
speak  of  neutral  color,  we  mean  the  zero  of  that 
feeling;  neither  possession  nor  loss,  which  are  both 
sensation,  but  an  emotional  dead  center.  It  must 
be  more  than  a  bore  and  less  than  an  interest,  the 
point  of  complete  indifference.  You  can  see  that 
this  brings  us,  in  a  practical  way,  to  a  neutral  so 
common,  so  expected,  that  we  neither  know  it  is 
there  nor  feel  that  anything  is  missing.  This  is  the 
basis  of  shadow  and  a  test  of  the  rule  and  its  ex- 
ceptions. It  could  even  be  the  rule  itself,  if  you 
choose  to  take  it. 

A  final  word  and  we  will  pass  to  color.  Wherever 
blue  is  the  basis  of  shadow,  it  must  be  intensified 
to  keep  pace  with  the  other  colors;  wrong  at  the 
start  but  right  at  the  finish.  This  supposes  a 
normal  distance  from  which  a  picture  should  be 
seen,  and  every  painter  instinctively  adapts  him- 

79 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

self  to  it,  though  it  is  a  mystery  to  the  public.  As 
nearly  every  shadow  is  blue  or  purple  in  some 
degree,  it  follows  that  the  actual  pigment  used  is 
more  colored  than  the  facts  seem  to  warrant.  One 
wonders  sometimes  about  rules  and  exceptions. 
Would  it  not  be  better  to  know  all  of  the  reasons 
and  then  forget  them  and  paint? 

Color  is  a  perfectly  harmless  sensation.  It  leads 
to  no  evil  whatever,  and  at  the  very  worst  can  only 
be  a  nuisance.  But  it  is  interesting  to  think  that 
just  beyond  our  vision  come  the  ultra-violet  rays, 
which  are  the  rays  of  chemical  action,  bring  death 
to  the  lowest  organisms,  and  have  something  to  do 
with  the  life  history  of  plants. 

As  far  as  the  painter  is  concerned  the  scientific 
side  of  color  is  unimportant;  for  only  the  effect  of 
it  is  what  concerns  him.  He  divides  colors  into  two 
classes,  the  warm  and  the  cold,  with,  of  course,  an 
indeterminate  line  between.  As  color  recedes  from 
us,  it  gradually  loses  its  identity,  and  finally  merges 
with  the  sky.  In  doing  so  it  also  grows  cooler,  so 
that  we  may  broadly  say  the  warm  colors  belong 
to  the  foreground  and  the  cold  to  the  distance.  If 

80 


TEE  STUDENT 

you  speak  to  me  of  a  red  and  yellow  sunset,  I  will 
tell  you  that  it  is  not  an  exception,  but  a  totally 
different  case.  The  source  of  the  light  is  colored, 
part  of  the  spectrum  is  missing,  and  local  color 
does  what  it  can. 

Think  of  a  red  object  as  one  which  absorbs  all 
color  but  red,  and  shows  us  only  what  it  has  no 
taste  for.  Green  will  swallow  the  red,  but  if  that 
is  the  source  of  light  there  is  nothing  left  and  our 
trees  will  be  black.  If  you  are  looking  for  further 
complications,  our  eyes  are  so  dazzled  by  the  bril- 
liant light  that  anything  dark  will  take  the  com- 
plementary. Local  color  has  very  little  chance,  and 
is  dominated  by  the  greater  sensation.  Cover  the 
sky  and  study  the  changes  that  come  from  colored 
light  playing  on  the  various  surfaces.  Then  cover 
your  ground  and  paint  your  sky,  like  an  honest 
and  responsible  person.  You  have  your  sunset,  but 
it  is  colored  paint;  for  you  have  not  shown  what 
the  dazzling  light  has  done  to  you.  People  will  look 
at  it,  and  tell  you  of  other  sunsets  you  should  have 
seen,  so  bright  that  no  artist  could  paint  them. 
You  seem  improbable,  but  you  do  not  dazzle,  and 

8x 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

your  search  for  facts  has  but  placed  you  under 
suspicion.  Color  is  a  sensation.  If  I  could  make  you 
think  it  was  red  by  painting  it  green,  I  should  cer- 
tainly do  so. 

There  is  an  afterglow  that  comes  over  these  hills 
so  elusive  that  paint  seems  never  to  touch  it.  It 
always  looked  red  in  the  picture  and  always  like 
paint,  until  once,  when  I  made  the  shadows  green, 
I  found  my  color.  It  was  a  relation  between  red 
and  green,  and  not  a  local  color.  There  is  a  color  of 
fact  and  a  color  between  the  facts;  a  single  sensa- 
tion made  up  of  many,  like  a  chord  in  music,  pos- 
sible to  analyze,  but  to  be  felt  as  one. 

It  is  one  of  our  instinctive  habits  to  measure 
distance  by  color  variation  as  well  as  by  diminish- 
ing form.  The  cooling  of  color  as  it  recedes  from 
us  is  so  much  a  matter  of  perpetual  experience  that 
most  people  have  never  thought  of  it,  and  would 
tell  you  that  it  is  unimportant  if  true.  And  yet  we 
all  know  that  a  mountain  is  far  away,  because  it 
seems  blue,  and  a  misty  day  in  the  city  will  make 
the  buildings  look  very  much  higher.  Here  is  your 
chance  to  express  the  third  dimension,  which  is  the 

82 


TEE  STUDENT 

measure  of  Illusion.  You  have  breadth  and  height, 
but  you  must  Imply  depth,  and  It  may  be  done  by 
diminishing  form  and  graying  color.  If  you  cover 
a  space  with  alternate  spots  of  warm  and  cool 
color  of  identical  value,  the  warm  will  appear  to 
be  in  front  of  the  cool.  Our  surface  vibrates;  we 
have  done,  what,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  events, 
would  mean  separation  or  shadow.  The  Impres- 
sionists do  this  and  find  it  an  excellent  means  to 
an  end. 

As  you  sit  down  to  consider  on  Saturday  night 
all  of  the  facts  you  have  gained  with  the  paint  you 
have  used,  you  will  find  nothing  more  far-reaching 
than  this  matter  of  the  warm  and  the  cold.  It 
sounds  too  simple  to  be  of  much  importance,  but 
it  means  the  relative  place  in  the  world  of  the  ob- 
ject you  are  Interested  in.  Also  it  means  that  other 
things  should  keep  their  place,  too,  which  ,is  quite 
important  in  a  well-ordered  canvas.  This  matter  of 
place  is  like  size,  for  it  belongs  to  the  beginning  and 
cannot  be  postponed  till  the  time  comes  to  explain. 
No  amount  of  argument  will  make  a  false  color 
keep  its  proper  distance,  or  even  justify  its  pres- 

83 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

ence.  If  you  divide  your  canvas  into  a  few  colors 
that  are  appropriate  to  their  respective  planes, 
you  have  expressed  depth  and  followed  a  law  of 
Nature. 

This  is  a  brief  discussion  of  how  we  get  our  facts. 
Before  long  we  shall  want  to  use  them,  and  we  shall 
have  other  things  to  occupy  our  minds. 

We  find  many  confusing  incidents  in  Nature  that 
are  difficult  to  see  clearly,  unless  we  refer  to  the 
cause.  Facts  cannot  be  changed,  but  the  conclu- 
sions we  draw  from  them  must  be,  as  we  get  a 
larger  view.  There  are  not  so  many  kinds  of  visible 
facts  when  we  stop  to  think  of  it,  and  we  could 
easily  make  a  short  list  that  would  include  every- 
thing we  know  through  the  service  of  our  eyes. 
The  first  is  the  solidity  of  form,  and  I  have  told 
you  in  a  general  way  how  we  recognize  the  solid. 
Scientists  say  it  is  motion  in  mass,  and  the  Greeks 
had  their  doubts  when  they  said,  "What  is,  is  not." 
However  it  may  seerri  to  a  scientist  or  philosopher, 
Christian  or  pagan,  or  neither,  to  the  mere  painter 
form  is  a  solid  fact,  though  even  his  object  is 
illusion. 

84 


THE  STUDENT 

Our  next  fact  is  extension,  measurement,  size, 
any  term  you  choose  to  express  the  limiting  and 
separation  of  objects.  It  is  the  equivalent  of  time, 
in  the  spacing  of  events.  I  have  never  heard  it 
doubted  that  two  bodies  may  not  occupy  the  same 
place  at  the  same  time.  When  time  disappears,  all 
events  become  one  and  matter  coincides.  This  is 
the  infinite  equation. 

We  have  light  with  its  components  of  color,  a 
matter  recognizable  through  but  one  of  our  senses. 
Finally  there  is  motion,  which  is  a  state  or  con- 
dition. It  may  look  like  a  dubious  fact,  since  its 
essence  is  change,  but  if  it  is  permanency  that 
makes  fact  we  shall  soon  be  forced  to  doubt  our 
own  importance. 

To  sum  up,  we  have  mass,  measurement,  light, 
and  motion,  as  definite  elements  with  which  to 
express  our  ideas.  The  discussion  of  motion  we 
shall  have  to  leave,  to  some  extent,  until  later,  for 
it  involves  suggestion  and  choice,  but  there  is  one 
aspect  of  it  which  belongs  to  our  present  subject. 
Our  first  thought  of  motion  is  of  line  or  direction, 
the  path  of  the  passing  object.  The  thing  itself  is 

85 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

more  or  less  vague,  and  we  shall  consider  that  side 
of  the  matter  when  we  become  more  intimate  with 
objects.  But  if  the  line  of  passing  separates  planes, 
as  it  does  in  the  case  of  sea  and  shore,  or  if  it  is  con- 
tinuous, like  the  trail  of  smoke  across  the  sky,  then 
we  have  a  case  of  fundamental  line,  which  is  to  be 
taken  as  a  description  of  character. 

The  separation  of  objects  means  the  meeting  of 
edges,  where  one  thing  stops  and  another  begins, 
and  the  character  of  the  object  determines  that 
line.  In  representation  we  reverse  the  order  and 
suggest  the  character  by  the  manner  of  meeting. 
You  will  notice  that  however  literal  we  may  be  in 
intention,  we  are  constantly  forced  back  to  sug- 
gestion. This  is  because  neither  the  mind  nor  the 
eye  can  absolutely  isolate  a  fact.  We  know  nothing 
of  one  color  alone.  When  we  look  at  a  pale  blue,  we 
unconsciously  compare  it  with  white,  and  so  call 
it  pale.  We  identify  by  association.  No  object  ever 
completely  fills  our  vision,  either  mental  or  phys- 
ical. In  thought  we  have  the  object  with  the  con- 
scious and  subconscious  associations,  and  the  mind 
slips  from  one  to  the  others.  If  we  are  straying  now, 

86 


TEE  STUDENT 

we  have  only  gone  behind  our  subject,  merely  a 
temporary  separation. 

A  rock  on  the  hillside  is  bounded  by  a  line  that 
depends  on  its  circumstances.  Above  in  the  air  it 
is  smooth  and  continuous,  but  where  it  meets  the 
ground  all  depends  on  conditions.  If  we  have  sand 
the  line  is  precise  and  broken  only  by  shadow. 
If  it  is  turf,  the  line  is  soft,  or  with  bushes,  we  leave 
the  ground  and  meet  in  the  air.  Each  object  has  its 
own  personal  ways.  A  tree  comes  from  the  ground; 
we  may  not  always  see  it  come,  but  we  must  make 
it  possible  for  it  to  do  so.  There  is  unrest  about  a 
tree  that  carries  its  head  in  the  air,  with  no  visible 
means  of  support.  We  expect  it  of  clouds,  and  do 
not  like  it  if  they  adhere  to  the  hillside.  We  very 
much  prefer  that  Nature,  at  her  age,  should  be 
strictly  conventional. 

There  is  an  ever-recurring  miracle  that  happens 
year  by  year,  for  which  Nature  is  in  no  way  re- 
sponsible. Why  do  class  rocks  float?  There  is  no 
discredit  to  the  painter,  for  they  seem  to  do  it  by 
their  own  volition.  Do  not  forget  that  when  a  wave 
meets  a  rock  it  is  more  like  a  fight  than  a  party. 

87 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

And  even  if  there  is  no  assault,  we  have  a  line 
traced  by  a  horizontal  moving  liquid  on  a  vertical 
solid.  It  is  force  meeting  resistance. 

When  a  wave  breaks  on  a  rock  and  there  is  a 
smother  of  foam,  the  eye  finds  it  most  difficult  to 
follow  the  line.  If  you  try  to  do  so,  you  will  as- 
semble a  number  of  facts  that  have  happened  at 
various  times  and  together  form  a  wave  that  is 
possible  only  in  paint  and  quite  beyond  the  range 
of  the  ocean.  Stop  to  consider  with  what  you  are 
dealing;  nothing  is  happening  by  chance.  Every 
drop  of  that  water  is  obedient  to  the  force  that 
compels  it.  What  a  travesty  to  make  your  wave 
burst  into  absorbent  cotton! 

A  straight  line  in  the  joining  of  water  and  rock 
means  the  extreme  of  motion,  or  else  absolute  rest. 
The  quality  of  the  line  will  show  which  it  may  be. 
Swift  motion  has  no  time  for  trifles.  There  is  a  pro- 
test of  white  at  a  minor  obstruction,  but  the  line 
is  continuous,  and  paralleled  by  others  on  the  back 
of  the  rushing  wave.  It  ignores  the  rock  as  much 
as  it  can.  The  quiet,  straight  line  is  the  victim  of 
form.  It  breaks  at  the  shadows,  is  strong  in  the 

88 


I 


THE  STUDENT 

light,  and  may  leave  you  in  doubt  altogether  as  to 
whether  you  are  painting  rock  or  sea.  It  does  not 
need  to  be  especially  regarded;  your  second-hand 
forms  are  of  more  importance,  for  they  show  that 
you  have  at  least  a  reflecting  surface.  A  long,  low 
curve  means  the  swell  of  the  tide,  and  so  we  can 
go  on  from  line  to  line,  each  the  direct  answer  to 
the  conditions.  What  do  you  expect  better  than 
that?  Your  imitative  forms  have  no  family  history 
and  we  are  not  at  all  sure  of  their  relations. 

We  read  through  the  individual  the  law  of  its 
kind,  and  a  wave  is  a  unit  of  the  ocean.  I  do  not 
wish  in  any  way  to  underestimate  the  importance 
of  an  individual  or  of  any  single  object  that  we 
know  all  about.  But  the  governing  laws  are  superior 
to  the  unit,  and  belong  to  all  humanity.  The  wave 
is  a  personal  interest,  but  is  modeled  by  force, 
which  is  universal.  We  should  say  of  our  picture, 
"The  ocean  acts  in  that  manner."  There  is  no  ob- 
jection to  its  looking  the  part,  too,  but  that  should 
come  in  the  way  of  an  inevitable  result.  You  must 
pass  behind  your  subject  to  reach  some  common 

89 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

ground  of  experience  or  else  it  will  have  about  the 
same  general  interest  as  your  diary.  We  are  glad 
that  you  were  there  when  that  wave  broke;  it  must 
have  been  a  very  pleasant  occasion;  but  we  are 
interested  in  the  power  that  could  make  such  a 
thing  happen.  We  may  see  something  like  it  our- 
selves, some  day,  or  even  better.  We  have  sug- 
gestion again;  it  seems  always  to  lie  in  wait  for  us, 
no  matter  how  simple  and  obvious  we  intend  to  be. 

Why  do  you  suppose  our  fishermen  have  a  look 
in  their  eyes  as  though  they  were  seeing  beyond 
the  horizon?  They  see  the  waves  and  the  color, 
but  they  say,  "I  guess  it's  coming  off  to  blow, 
and  Mose  had  better  get  in  before  she  strikes." 
They  will  risk  their  lives  for  you  any  day,  but  they 
will  beat  you  at  a  bargain  wherever  they  can. 
You  would  not  do  that,  but  would  you  go  out  as  a 
matter  of  course  to  a  boat  in  distress?  True  enough, 
it  is  not  our  profession,  but  it  makes  a  painted 
wave  look  remarkably  safe.  I  am  asking  you  to 
respect  what  you  are  only  representing. 

The  ocean  is  the  simplest  thing  we  know,  and 
the  most  permanent.  It  looks  exactly  the  same 

90 


TEE  STUDENT 

to-day  as  It  did  in  the  beginning  and  will  be  the 
same  as  long  as  the  world  lasts.  We  can  study  its 
surface  through  passing  forms,  such  as  mountains 
or  dunes,  which  obey  the  same  forces  in  changing 
material.  We  have  gravity  and  the  push  of  the 
wind  as  moulding  agents  in  either  case.  I  speak  of 
the  ocean  now,  not  so  much  as  a  subject  for  paint- 
ing, but  rather  to  demonstrate  to  you  the  necessity 
of  seeking  causes  in  your  attempt  to  see  results. 
This  may  sound  incompatible  with  the  artistic 
temperament,  and  may  be  called  scientific,  which 
in  this  connection  is  supposed  to  be  a  term  of  re- 
proach. Let  us  take  what  science  we  can;  we  shall 
need  all  of  it,  and  more,  when  we  come  to  add  in 
our  personal  equation.  Use  your  minds  freely  and 
without  hesitation.  If  your  knowledge  is  great 
enough,  and  your  mind  clear  enough,  your  pro- 
duction will  be  so  logical  and  spontaneous  that  no 
one  will  suspect  that  you  have  a  mind  at  all.  The 
simplicity  of  wisdom  is  never  offensive  and  does 
not  have  to  impress  in  order  to  convince.  I  am 
urging  the  value  of  knowledge  and  warning  you 
against  it.  I  have  seen  the  face  of  a  wave  so  beau- 

91 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

tifully  painted  that  it  must  have  taken  days  to 
draw  all  the  detail,  but  one  forgot  that  it  was 
supposed  to  be  moving.  The  anatomy  of  Nature  is 
our  professional  concern,  but  that  is  a  part  of  the 
diagnosis  and  does  not  appear  as  a  separate  item. 
We  are  glad  the  doctor  knows,  but  we  want  to  get 
busy  and  forget  it. 

Our  problem  next  week  will  be  the  story  of 
shadows  and  the  careful  consideration  of  our  divid- 
ing lines.  I  think  that  we  shall  soon  draw  the  con- 
clusion that  there  is  very  little  chance  of  an  im- 
portant finish  if  the  start  itself  is  bad.  There  is  no 
use  in  beginning  with  chaos.  That  affair  was  settled 
a  long  time  ago  and  we  live  in  an  ordered  world.  It 
is  useless  to  try  to  be  even  the  original,  primordial 
particle,  you  are  much  too  old  for  the  part.  Those 
simple  old  days  have  gone,  and  the  most  that  you 
could  do  in  that  direction  would  be  in  the  role  of 
a  civilized  wreck.  The  sketch  that  you  begin  to- 
day has  a  long  previous  history  in  yourself.  You 
do  not  start  with  the  bare  canvas;  the  picture  is 
finished  in  you  and  to  make  it  visible  is  the  last 
step.  It  is  not  always  a  simple  step  to  take  and  its 

92 


THE  STUDENT 

evil  name  is  technique.  The  easiest  way  is  the 
academic,  the  manner  of  estabHshed  respectabiUty. 
Do  not  be  afraid  of  it,  for  it  is  not  necessarily  re- 
actionary. It  means  that  best  ways  have  been 
found  to  express  a  general  line  of  thought.  These 
ways  may  be  adaptable  enough  to  meet  new  con- 
ditions, but  in  any  event  the  convention  lies  in  the 
thought  rather  than  in  the  technical  method. 

Any  method  is  good  that  expresses  the  thought, 
and  always  will  be.  We  find  new  ways  as  we  go 
on,  just  as  language  coins  new  words  when  the 
mode  of  life  changes.  All  methods  are  bound  to 
become  academic,  provided  they  are  backed  by  a 
thought  of  sufficient  importance  to  last  a  consid- 
erable time.  The  technique  of  the  moment  may  be 
perfectly  adequate,  and  yet  so  limited  to  a  cul-de- 
sac  of  thought  as  to  have  no  ultimate  value.  Think 
of  drawing,  for  example,  which  in  the  figure  has 
been  an  affair  of  correct  proportions,  poise,  and 
graceful  line.  If  these  elements  are  intentionally 
distorted,  we  have  an  expression  of  evil  that  would 
be  hard  to  match  by  conventional  methods.  One 
could  scarcely  say  that  such  things  were  not  well 

93 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

drawn,  for  they  thoroughly  express  the  motive. 
But  such  a  method  is  very  like  a  kit  of  burglar's 
tools,  nicely  adapted  to  business,  but  of  little  gen- 
eral use  —  unless,  indeed,  we  join  the  criminal 
classes.  Think  of  the  academic  as  a  link  in  the 
chain  that  connects  us  with  the  first  artist.  If  we 
add  enough  to  the  present  store  of  knowledge,  we 
shall  be  academic  to  those  who  come  after.  My 
thought  is  that  we  grow  from  the  past.  ' 

A  thoroughly  conventional  training  need  hold 
only  the  man  who  was  born  to  follow,  and  it  gives 
the  better  man  the  right  to  diverge.  I  do  not  have 
much  faith  in  the  spontaneity  of  genius.  A  genius 
probably  has  the  power  of  acquiring  essentials  in 
an  extremely  short  time  when  it  would  take  a  cen- 
tury for  another  to  do  so.  But  the  essentials  are  the 
same  in  either  case.  It  does  not  appear  likely  that 
any  one  can  omit  the  training  and  start  ready- 
made,  though  at  the  present  time  that  seems  to  be 
considered  possible.  As  for  radical  changes  and 
discoveries  that  would  sweep  away  all  that  has 
gone  before,  they  will  come  when  man  himself 
changes.  If  we  suddenly  were  to  acquire  the  habit 

94 


THE  STUDENT 

of  going  on  all  fours,  I  should  expect  the  artist's 
point  of  view  to  be  altered  accordingly.  Art  is 
exactly  where  man  is  and  develops  with  him. 

The  actual  manipulation  of  the  brush  is  a  skill- 
ful matter,  and  yet  it  requires  more  intelligence 
than  manual  dexterity.  Art  is  psychology,  not 
science,  and  there  must  ever  be  one  unknown  fac- 
tor, the  personal  equation.  You  must  know  what 
you  see,  why  you  see,  and  what  is  worth  seeing. 


IV 

There  is  a  certain  abiding  satisfaction  in  a  glitter- 
ing generality.  It  so  eliminates  the  personal  that 
one  may  never  be  at  a  loss  to  know  what  another 
should  do,  and  it  may  even  be  of  service  to  one's 
self  at  times  when  it  sufficiently  agrees  with  the 
facts.  So  far,  we  have  succeeded  in  keeping  personal 
interest  very  much  in  abeyance,  or  perhaps  one 
might  say,  all  of  our  potential  interests  have  been 
pooled,  and  we  have  established  a  general  average 
of  sensations  which  will  serve  as  a  background  for 
the  special  interest  to  come. 

We  have  said  very  little  so  far  about  the  actual 
ways  of  putting  on  the  paint,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
that  you  may  feel  your  progress  to  be  delayed  by 
lack  of  technical  knowledge.  This  may  be  true,  to 
some  extent,  but  I  have  a  settled  conviction  that, 
at  this  point,  the  intention  is  far  more  important 
than  the  accomplishment.  I  do  not  wish  to  belittle 
technique,  but  I  have  no  abiding  admiration  for 
it  when  it  serves  as  an  excuse  for  an  empty  head. 

96 


THE  STUDENT 

How  many  pictures  do  you  pick  out  in  a  large  ex- 
hibition to  look  at  a  second  time?  Presumably  they 
are  all  good  technically  or  they  would  not  have 
passed  the  jury;  though  one  wonders  sometimes 
about  that.  In  former  times  we  were  carefully  in- 
structed as  to  the  proper  sequence  of  cart  and 
horse.  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  the  ad- 
vice is  still  good,  though  primitive  in  form.  Do 
not  be  concerned  about  manual  dexterity,  for  we 
are  trying  to  open  our  eyes. 

We  are  about  to  come  to  a  turning-point  in 
our  career,  which  up  to  this  time  has  been  un- 
eventful. We  have  looked  in  a  general  way,  but 
have  seen  nothing,  for  our  minds  have  not 
rested  on  any  special  point.  I  want  to  make  a  dis- 
tinction between  looking  and  seeing,  for  one  is,  at 
least  in  a  measure,  subconscious,  while  the  other 
is  definitely  a  matter  of  the  conscious  mind. 

As  we  look  out  of  the  window,  we  see  a  man  and 
a  dog  who  become  the  subject  of  our  active  thought. 
Our  eyes  are  focused  on  them,  and  the  rest  of  the 
world  takes  a  secondary  place  and  modifies  itself 
accordingly.  Where  your  vision  centers,  there  you 

97 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

see  most  clearly.  This  applies  to  color  as  well  as  to 
form,  and  though  color  and  form  may  be  stable  in 
themselves,  they  vary  with  their  place  in  relation 
to  our  interest.  Take  a  red  spot,  for  example,  and 
look  at  it  directly.  You  see  it,  in  its  full  intensity, 
and  get  the  maximum  of  sensation  it  is  able  to 
give.  If  you  move  it  to  one  side  where  it  is  but 
vaguely  seen,  there  is  less  sensation  from  it,  hence 
less  intensity  of  red.  As  far  as  your  thought  is  con- 
cerned it  has  changed,  though  in  itself  the  color  is 
the  same  as  before. 

We  may  as  well  acknowledge  at  once  the  in- 
stability of  what  we  have  been  pleased  to  call  fact. 
The  man  and  the  dog  make  over  the  world  for  us, 
but  they  quickly  share  the  fate  of  other  unim- 
portant things  if  we  prefer  to  look  at  a  cloud.  We 
no  longer  take  them  seriously. 

Let  us  turn  to  a  specific  case,  which  will  serve 
as  the  problem  for  the  week.  We  have  a  landscape 
with  a  heavy  cast  shadow  over  the  foreground,  be- 
yond, the  lighted  hills,  and  above,  the  sky.  When 
our  center  of  interest  lies  within  the  shadow,  the 
color  all  about  it  gives  us  a  definite  sensation  and 

98 


THE  STUDENT 

is  local  since  it  is  closely  associated  with  the  sub- 
ject of  our  thought.  Suppose  we  change  our  point 
of  view  to  some  object  in  the  lighted  distance.  We 
are  now  looking  over  the  shadow,  and  our  active 
sensations  would  come  from  the  new  interest  and 
its  surroundings.  Our  shadow  would  not  only  be 
less  definitely  seen  in  detail,  but  its  color  would 
become  more  neutral.  This  is  based  on  the  fact 
that  color  is  a  sensation,  and  that  indifference  as  a 
mental  attitude  has  its  visual  equivalent  in  neutral. 
You  can  test  this  by  keeping  your  eyes  focused  on 
the  object  of  interest  and  asking  yourself  the  actual 
tone  of  what  you  only  half  see.  Change  your  ob- 
jective to  the  other  plane  and  ask  the  question 
again.  You  will  find  this  a  difiicult  thing  to  do,  for 
it  is  natural  to  direct  the  look  when  you  put  the 
question.  But  the  information  you  are  after  is  not 
what  the  thing  is,  but  what  it  has  become  through 
your  indifference.  We  have  but  one  clear  and 
definite  interest  at  a  time,  and  all  else  is  secondary 
to  it. 

Do  not  think  for  a  minute  that  you  can  carry 
through  a  sketch  with  your  eyes  always  fixed  on 

99 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

one  spot.  Whatever  you  look  at  h,as  its  place  in  the 
scheme  of  the  whole,  and  loses  its  personal  char- 
acteristics in  propo|*tion  to  its  diminishing  im- 
portance. You  must  have  the  utmost  regard  for 
facts,  but  they  are  never  to  be  allowed  so  to  isolate 
themselves  as  to  give  a  wrong  impression.  You 
often  lose  your  subject  in  your  concern  for  the 
truth.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  there  are  shingles 
on  that  building,  houses  on  the  point,  and  a  beau- 
tiful hotel,  rocks  on  the  beach,  a  river,  a  bridge,  a 
number  of  people  and  a  few  breaking  waves.  I 
know  that  they  are  all  there,  but  somehow  that 
man  and  a  dog  seem  lost  among  so  many  realities. 

Next  time  we  will  try  the  shadow  problem.  I  will 
tell  you  for  your  comfort  that  it  has  wrecked  every 
class  for  ten  years.  Once  in  a  while  there  is  an  in- 
telligent attempt  at  it,  but  very  rarely.  If  the  week 
should  prove  disastrous,  I  would  recommend  that 
the  effort  should  be  continued  for  a  suitable  time. 
It  is  a  very  excellent  tonic. 

If  you  are  wise  you  will  never  allow  your  thought 
to  drift  from  the  center  of  interest.  Your  eyes  may 
wander  in  search  of  the  facts,  but  these  are  to  be 

lOO 


TEE  STUDENT 

weighed  by  a  discriminating  mind  before  they  can 
be  properly  used. 

Perhaps  you  will  find  in  this  the  reason  why 
some  of  your  canvases  make  you  wonder  that  you 
did  them  anyway.  They  are  made  well  enough,  but 
nothing  seems  to  happen.  They  have  not  even  the 
interest  of  failure,  which  would  enlist  sympathy  if 
not  respect.  You  are  hopelessly  good  and  unim- 
portant. All  of  your  facts  have  an  equal  value; 
who  would  live  in  such  a  stupid  world  as  that ! 
Your  intention  was  good  when  you  started,  and 
your  interest  was  warranted,  but  then  it  was  fixed 
on  one  point.  You  have  given  us  a  catalogue  and  it 
is  not  exciting.  We  were  looking  for  a  story  or  at 
least  a  brilliant  remark. 

As  soon  as  we  turn  to  a  center  of  interest,  we  are 
taking  on  our  rights  as  individuals.  The  thing  that 
attracts  you  is  a  matter  of  your  personal  taste.  It 
is  here  that  we  too  often  mystify  the  public,  for  a 
painter's  choice  is  frequently  incomprehensible  to 
the  ordinary  citizen.  Part  of  this  is  due  to  the  lan- 
guage we  use,  which  is  arbitrary  to  a  larger  degree 
than  we  realize.  They  say  that  a  dog  gets  no  idea 

lOI 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

whatever  from  a  picture,  for  he  sees  the  surface 
only.  I  have  known  human  beings  to  look  at  them 
in  much  the  same  way.  I  suppose  we  are  likely  to 
see  only  what  we  are  looking  for. 

There  is  no  virtue  in  being  obscure,  and  we 
should  make  our  language  as  universal  as  possible, 
though  never  at  the  cost  of  principles.  We  should 
be  understood,  but  say  what  we  choose,  nor  fit  that 
to  any  one's  liking. 

We  find  the  humble  and  honest  person  who 
says,  "  I  know  nothing  about  Art,  but  I  know  what 
I  like."  It  seems  a  desperate  attempt  at  self- 
assertion,  but  if  we  do  not  own  our  personal  taste, 
what  is  there  to  which  we  can  lay  claim?  We  share 
most  things  with  others,  even  our  own  funerals, 
but  taste  belongs  to  us  and  we  should  be  willing  to 
fight  for  it. 

Look  receptive,  but  unconvinced  when  you  are 
told  what  you  should  paint.  The  other  man  is  tell- 
ing you  all  about  himself,  though  he  does  not 
know  it.  The  real  mistake  is  to  force  our  choice  on 
others  even  for  the  sake  of  doing  good;  it  is  an  un- 
warrantable personal  invasion,  and  when  done  in 

102 


TEE  STUDENT 

the  name  of  truth  there  is  nothing  left  to  the  vic- 
tim but  to  run. 

I  once  took  a  trip  South  with  a  shipload  of  tour- 
ists, three  hundred  and  six  of  us  in  all.  Three  hun- 
dred and  five  knew  what  was  true  to  Nature  as 
well  as  what  it  was  advisable  to  do  about  it,  and 
I  got  a  great  deal  of  valuable  information  on  points 
which  seemed  obscure  before. 

A  Futurist  will  ask,  "Why  drag  in  the  truth 
when  it  is  a  matter  of  taste?"  Perhaps  he  is  right; 
it  is  a  subject  for  careful  consideration.  When  any 
one  claims  to  know  the  whole  truth,  one  naturally 
asks  if  our  informant  is  alive  to  all  the  possible 
contingencies.  Minor  truths  are  scarcely  worth 
any  one's  trouble  to  claim,  and  major  truth  seems 
to  be  found  more  often  in  relations  than  in  any 
positive  fact. 

I  do  not  care  so  much  what  the  thing  is,  as  for 
what  it  is  to  me.  We  are  looking  for  Nature's  effect 
on  us,  and  trying  so  to  distribute  paint  on  a  canvas 
as  to  give  the  same  sensation  to  others.  Under- 
stand this,  however;  it  is  not  a  record  of  our  sen- 
sation or  what  has  happened  to  us,  but  of  the 

103 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

causes  so  far  as  we  can  analyze  them.  The  painting 
of  the  mental  condition  resulting  from  the  cause 
has  been  gravely  proposed  by  some  of  our  prophets. 
It  is  a  brilliant  idea,  and  certainly  can  be  carried 
out.  But  it  assumes  a  public  interest  in  one's  pri- 
vate affairs  that  seems  in  no  way  warranted  by 
experience. 

It  would  be  a  gloomy  future,  Indeed,  for  the 
deep-sea  marine,  if  one  may  judge  by  appearances. 
We  are  glad  to  get  that  ocean  inside  a  frame  where 
we  may  give  it  our  undivided  attention.  We  are 
charmed  that  you  like  it,  and  it  is  a  calamity  if 
you  do  not.  But  give  us  the  materials,  for  we  prefer 
to  draw  our  own  conclusions,  I  am  forced  to  admit 
that  no  matter  how  generous  your  intention  may 
be  in  supplying  these  materials,  there  is  disappoint- 
ment in  store  for  you.  We  see  beauties  that  other 
people  at  best  vaguely  feel.  Do  not  think  that 
you  have  failed  if  your  landscape  is  appreciated 
because  it  looks  like  a  good  place  for  a  picnic. 
That  is  a  subconscious  recognition  of  its  beauty, 
and  we  are  not  any  too  definite  on  that  point 
ourselves. 

104 


TEE  STUDENT 

It  is  probable  that  every  one  has  a  subconscious 
knowledge  of  Nature,  with  the  addition  of  enough 
of  the  conscious  to  meet  the  practical  requirements 
of  living.  If  we  go  far  astray  on  the  fundamental 
relations,  we  become  unintelligible  and  flourish  in 
a  world  known  only  to  the  painter. 

I  am  not  urging  the  claim  of  the  public  taste,  but 
it  is  important  that  we  should  know  as  much  as  we 
can  of  our  own  mental  reactions,  as  well  as  those 
of  others.  It  may  seem  to  you  that  we  are  taking 
unnecessary  trouble  and  that  all  might  be  left  to 
talent  and  an  easily  acquired  technique.  It  would 
be  simple,  indeed,  if  talent  could  be  trusted,  but  it 
has  a  way  of  leading  one  on  to  a  definite  spot,  and 
beyond  that  the  beast  will  not  budge.  It  is  somehow 
held  by  a  balancing  force,  and  you  are  fortunate  if 
you  do  not  find  yourself  drifting  backward.  This  is 
not  chance,  but  an  inevitable  result. 

Talent  does  not  wear  out,  but  you  may  starve 
it.  If  we  knew  exactly  what  it  is  that  makes  the 
painter,  we  could  establish  a  system  of  education 
that  would  be  most  unsatisfactory  in  its  certainty,, 
for  we  should  each  know  our  number  in  advance. 

los 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

We  are  specially  made,  and  there  are  very  few  of 
us  compared  to  the  rest  of  the  world.  That  might 
be  because  we  are  not  much  needed,  but  one  has 
only  to  think  of  the  number  of  pictures  in  existence 
and  how  they  are  kept  from  one  generation  to  an- 
other, to  answer  that  distressing  suggestion.  Not 
that  we  have  the  equivalent  of  an  extra  hand, 
especially  made  eyes,  or  a  tract  in  our  heads  de- 
voted to  art,  but  more  likely  it  is  a  matter  of 
balance.  We  start  with  a  mind  sensitive  to  a  class 
of  emotions,  vaguely  called  Beauty,  but  they  are 
not  abstractions  and  belong  to  the  rest  of  existence 
as  we  do. 

If  we  change  our  mental  proportion,  it  may  be 
for  better,  or  it  may  be  for  worse ;  but  this  much  is 
certain:  when  we  develop  one  side  at  the  expense 
of  the  other,  there  will  come  a  time  when  we  over- 
balance —  we  are  too  rich  a  mixture.  I  believe  this 
is  what  happens  to  a  man  who  has  gone  stale;  it  is 
not  more  paint  he  wants,  but  more  humanity.  We 
are  dealing  with  fundamental  laws.  Nature  does 
not  end  where  man  begins,  but  they  are  woven 
together. 

io6 


TEE  STUDENT 

My  conclusion  is  that  we  are  to  accept  our  orig- 
inal proportions,  and  see  that  they  are  not  very 
much  altered  in  our  subsequent  development.  The 
painter  Is  a  very  Intent  person,  and  is  likely  enough 
to  forget  ever>'thing  in  the  pursuit  of  his  object. 
But  who  can  say  that  matters  of  general  impor- 
tance are  useless  to  him?  He  is  not  a  superman  — 
very  often. 

We  started  with  a  center  of  interest,  and  per- 
haps we  have  wandered,  though  we  have  it  still. 
So  far  we  have  spoken  only  of  the  vision  casually 
centered  on  some  object  which  for  the  moment 
attracts  our  attention.  Around  about  it  we  see 
clearly,  and  the  original  color  plane  in  which  it 
lies  would  be  divided  by  definite  forms.  As  far  as 
the  color  sum  is  concerned,  however,  there  has 
been  no  change.  It  is  like  a  dollar  bill  resolved  Into 
minor  cash.  It  is  still  a  dollar  unless  you  lose  some- 
thing. We  have  the  big  color  values.  Then  comes 
an  interest  which  causes  us  to  modify  its  surround- 
ings and  all  of  the  other  planes  to  a  lesser  degree. 
We  have  thrown  a  rock  into  the  pool,  created  a 
disturbance,  and  nothing  is  the  same  as  before, 

107 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

though  from  a  sufficient  distance  the  surface  would 
still  be  flat  and  we  have  not  appreciably  raised  the 
level.  Nature  attends  to  that  by  gravity  and  the 
tide,  and  with  our  rock  or  our  thought  we  have 
only  created  an  interest.  If  we  are  ambitious  and 
anxious  to  raise  the  level,  we  will  carefully  choose 
our  mark.  Our  rock  might  make  more  difference  in 
a  pail  than  in  the  ocean. 

We  pass  from  the  general  to  the  special,  adding 
objects  in  the  order  of  their  relative  importance. 
That  is  a  rule  for  detail  and  leaves  to  you  only  the 
decision  of  what  is  important.  You  will  find  in  it 
the  utmost  comfort. 

There  is  one  class  of  subjects  that  I  must  warn 
you  against,  not  because  they  are  bad,  but  by 
reason  of  our  own  mixed  feelings.  Take  moonlight, 
for  example,  which  is  popularly  supposed  to  have 
an  especial  charm  under  some  conditions,  and  to 
a  poetic  soul,  suggests  a  picture.  The  sensation  is 
not  warranted  by  the  visible  evidence,  but  is  made 
up  of  a  variety  of  pleasant  emotions.  We  have  the 
memory  of  the  hot  day  past,  the  smell  of  coolness 
in  the  air,  the  thought  of  better  work  to-morrow, 

io8 


TEE  STUDENT 

and  altogether  we  are  susceptible  to  an  extent  not 
to  be  attributed  to  the  facts.  I  am  not  maligning 
the  moon,  or  underestimating  anything  that  it 
does,  but  I  am  warning  you  that  by  daylight  you 
may  wonder  how  you  lost  the  charm  of  that  path 
of  light  on  the  water. 

Then  there  is  the  pine  wood  which  is  in  a  measure 
beyond  the  range  of  paint,  for  there  we  have  fra- 
grance and  sound  as  very  real  elements  in  our  sen- 
sation. It  is  difficult  to  pass  from  one  sense  to  the 
memory  of  another,  from  sight  to  the  suggestion  of 
sound  or  smell,  though  it  may  be  done  when  per- 
sonal association  is  very  strong.  But  it  is  doubtful 
ground,  and  might  easily  lead  to  the  confusion  of 
the  arts.  I  would  leave  the  moon  to  literature.  We 
might  dispute  about  the  wood,  for  that  has  color, 
and  the  best  that  words  can  do  for  color  would  be 
only  to  give  it  a  name. 

As  a  general  thing,  use  your  medium  for  what  it 
can  do  best,  and  leave  the  other  arts  to  their  own 
province.  I  do  not  want  you  to  think  of  a  sonnet; 
I  am  giving  you  color  and  visual  form,  and  it  is  a 
picture.  The  root  of  this  trouble  has  been  the  fact 

109 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

that  all  of  the  arts  have  one  common  possession  in 
suggestion  and  they  even  try  to  use  it  on  each 
other.  There  should  be  a  law  against  this  or  at 
least  a  gentleman's  agreement.  Our  own  share  of 
suggestion  is  a  definite  matter,  and  we  use  it  con- 
tinually. If  we,  inadvertently,  touch  poetry  or 
music,  it  is  only  that  we  have  induced  a  mood 
similar  to  that  which  those  arts  produce.  This  does 
not  seem  sufficient  basis  for  trouble  between  friends. 
We  are  all  of  us  trying  to  create  a  sensation. 

You  may  write  about  red,  but  that  child  belongs 
to  me;  you  may  like  his  look,  but  you  do  not  know 
all  that  he  can  do,  and  you  could  not  put  it  as  well 
as  I  can.  Leave  him  to  me;  it  is  a  better  arrange- 
ment. As  for  the  story,  I  can  do  something  with  it, 
but  after  all  we  should  like  to  know  what  happens 
next,  and  you  had  better  write  about  it.  Or,  per- 
haps, you  should  argue  It  with  the  movies;  my 
sympathy  is  with  you. 

If  you  paint  In  a  literal  manner  a  headland, 
which  Is  the  end  of  a  ridge  stretching  far  back  Into 
the  country,  rising  higher  and  higher,  with  the  sea 
beyond  in  a  long,  straight  line  as  it  meets  the  sky, 

no 


TEE  STUDENT 

and  content  yourself  with  what  lies  within  your 
picture  limits,  you  are  giving  us  only  a  sample  of 
Nature.  If  you  suggest,  however,  by  altering  your 
line  that  the  point  continues  to  rise  beyond  the 
small  portion  you  show,  you  give  its  true  bearing 
in  relation  to  other  large  affairs.  It  is  not  the  whole 
of  something  small,  but  the  edge  of  a  continent. 

Nature  so  changed  as  to  fit  our  general  im- 
pression will  look  more  like  the  place  than  the 
spot  does  itself.  Always  keep  that  in  your  mind 
when  arranging  a  picture,  and  imply  the  condi- 
tions that  surround  it.  Tell  more  than  you  say. 

As  a  matter  of  technique  in  this  special  case,  the 
line  of  your  headland  should  rise  as  it  touches  the 
frame.  But  even  in  that  you  must  have  a  care,  for 
if  it  rises  too  sharply,  it  will  suggest  a  small  ob- 
struction and  not  the  great  earth  line. 

If  you  should  ask  me  of  what  suggestion  in 
painting  really  consists,  I  should  tell  you  that  it  is 
the  facts  that  you  state  without  mentioning  them. 
They  are  inevitable  inferences  based  on  common 
experience.  You  will  be  in  a  way  of  constant  sur- 
prise as  you  see  how  many  they  are. 

Ill 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

When  we  were  considering  general  divisions 
and  our  sensation  came  from  external  conditions, 
we  painted  averages  that  did  not  exist,  but  were 
concrete  and  objective  in  their  relation.  Now, 
when  we  turn  to  a  center  of  interest  which  we 
could  reasonably  expect  to  be  objective,  we  find 
that  we  reverse  the  process  and  pass  through  facts 
to  the  implied. 

Suggestion  is  the  enrichment  of  any  positive 
statement,  and  is  like  the  overtones  in  music.  That 
it  is  mental  makes  it  a  personal  affair  varying  with 
the  experience  and  quality  of  each  individual.  The 
facts  live.  This,  as  we  said  in  the  beginning,  is 
where  we  take  a  new  step  in  art,  for  our  prede- 
cessors contented  themselves  with  the  facts,  while 
we  use  them  as  a  stimulant  for  thought.  It  is  not 
the  painful  process  that  it  sounds,  and  not  neces- 
sarily educational.  A  person  who  is  so  constituted 
may  still  yearn  and  even  yearn  the  more,  since  we 
deliberately  clear  the  way.  But  such  feelings  are 
not  for  us ;  we  supply  the  excitement. 

Let  us  begin  with  common  experience.  Take  a 
figure  in  motion ;  for  example,  a  bather  we  will  say. 

112 


THE  STUDENT 

Our  thought  Is  of  movement  and  we  see  a  red  cap, 
an  arm,  and  a  flashing  skirt.  We  may  know  very 
well  all  that  is  there,  but  to  paint  it  would  be  to 
arrest  the  motion,  for  we  should  be  giving  the  facts 
that  belong  to  immobility.  It  is  necessary  that  we 
should  be  in  possession  of  all  of  the  data  so  that 
what  we  use  may  be  consistent,  but  our  expression 
depends  quite  as  much  on  what  we  leave  out  as  on 
what  we  put  in. 

If  we  were  to  paint  a  speeding  motor  boat,  a 
photograph  would  be  of  no  use  except  as  it  would 
furnish  information  as  to  the  actual  shape  of  the 
boat.  We  deliberately  make  our  arrangements  to 
seem  spontaneous,  which  is,  of  course,  part  of  the 
suggestion.  We  are  prestldigltateurs;  we  are  not 
delivering  a  learned  discourse.  Aftenv^ard  people 
may  say,  ''How  did  he  do  it?"  —  but  motion  is 
the  thing  and  we  do  not  appear.  There  are  times 
when  one  must  suffer  self-effacement. 

The  boat  is  bright  red  to  attract  the  eye  and 
hold  it  after  the  fashion  of  a  crystal  ball.  It  is  a 
slight  attempt  at  hypnosis.  Having  fixed  the  at- 
tention, we  make  the  bow  definite  and  leave  out 

113 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

the  stern,  in  a  vague  mixture  of  boat  and  foam,  for 
with  a  moving  object  the  eye  goes  to  the  advanced 
point  and  sees  what  follows  but  vaguely.  The  bow 
wave  has  a  sharp  rise  and  drops  in  a  long  curve 
which  depends  on  the  weight  of  the  boat,  the 
shape,  the  speed,  or  its  acceleration.  The  man  is 
poised  with  his  weight  thrown  forward  to  offset 
the  swift  motion.  The  wake  follows,  triangular  in 
plan,  with  the  boat  at  the  apex,  spreading  in  ac- 
cordance with  the  shape  of  the  bow  and  the  degree 
of  speed.  The  ripples  in  the  foreground  are  elon- 
gated, and  tend  to  become  parallel  with  the  passing 
object.  Here  is  a  place  where  we  deliberately  di- 
verge from  the  facts,  for  those  ripples  would  seem 
elongated  only  if  we  were  in  the  boat  ourselves  and 
swiftly  passing  them.  This  appeals  to  the  memory 
of  what  we  see  as  we  move,  and  we  transfer  it 
to  the  boat  as  a  thought  of  motion.  The  rocks  in 
the  background  are  sharp  and  definite,  though 
general  in  their  form  and  color,  and  through  their 
stability,  by  contrast,  give  mobility  to  the  boat. 
This  is  a  nice  balance,  for  they  might  become  so 
stable  as  to  attract  attention  to  themselves.  Still 

114 


I 


TEE  STUDENT 

we  have  the  red  of  the  boat  and  it  Is  an  effort  for 
the  eye  to  leave  it. 

After  these  arrangements  have  been  concluded, 
we  may  allow  ourselves  to  become  strictly  spon- 
taneous and  paint.  This  is  a  typical  example,  as 
we  have  a  visual  center  of  interest  elaborated  by 
detail  that  is  full  of  suggestion,  and  all  of  it  to- 
gether creates  a  sensation.  Where  we  have  stable 
facts  to  deal  with,  it  is  a  much  more  mechanical 
operation. 

To  continue  the  subject  of  motion  as  it  affects 
us,  we  turn  naturally  to  the  sea.  A  wave  is  the 
result  of  a  big  force  acting  on  a  quickly  responsive 
medium.  In  order  to  express  the  wave  you  have  to 
abandon  the  form  itself  and  seek  the  force  that 
moves  it.  That  force  is  traceable  by  what  it  does, 
and  is  shown  by  the  common  direction  that  it 
gives  to  all  forms.  You  say,  "The  sea  is  running  this 
way,"  and  draw  a  line  to  emphasize  your  remark, 
which  is  in  reality  the  line  of  compulsion. 

When  a  wave  breaks,  it  is  because  it  has  met 
resistance;  the  lower  layers  of  water  have  become 
unable  to  keep  up  with  the  top.  It  is  like  stubbing 

IIS 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

your  toe.  The  wave  curls  over  in  a  familiar  and 
conventional  form.  It  can  do  nothing  else,  made  as 
it  is,  acted  on  by  force  and  meeting  resistance.  It 
obeys  the  law  of  its  nature. 

If  you  accept  the  characteristics  of  water  and 
establish  the  conditions  of  force  and  resistance, 
you  can  make  a  wave  for  yourself  that  the  ocean 
would  be  proud  to  acknowledge.  There  is  the  little 
matter  of  color  still  where  we  might  go  astray;  but 
Nature  tells  us  about  that  if  we  are  willing  to 
listen. 

In  representing  results,  we  are  bound  to  suggest 
cause.  The  technical  way  to  do  it  is  simple.  You 
hold  in  your  mind  the  thought  of  the  force  which 
the  trifles  obey.  Instead  of  drawing  a  line  which 
would  stand  for  the  direction  of  the  movement, 
imply  it  by  the  sequence  of  the  detail.  We  have 
still  a  line,  even  though  broken,  but  more  living  for 
that,  for  it  requires  a  slight  mental  effort  to  asso- 
ciate the  parts.  This  is  an  excellent  way  to  secure 
attention,  for  these  vague  lines  are  subconciously 
recognized  before  they  become  the  subject  for  con- 
scious thought,  and  give  an  impression  that  there 

ii6 


THE  STUDENT 

is  more  to  be  seen  than  the  obvious.  As  it  is  gen- 
erally put,  the  picture  grows  on  us,  just  as  we  say 
of  a  person  who  has  many  reserves,  though  with 
nothing  hidden  from  those  who  can  see. 

We  might  go  on  with  analysis  of  water  surface, 
solving  with  ease  the  complicated  patterns  that 
seem  chaotic  if  looked  at  without  reference  to  the 
forces  that  cause  them.  On  an  ordinary  rough  day 
at  sea,  for  example,  the  ocean  is  covered  with  small 
moving  forms  with  a  flash  of  white  here  and  there, 
until  one  is  bewildered  with  the  repetition  and  the 
lack  of  any  salient  feature.  The  sea,  however,  pul- 
sates with  a  vertical  motion,  the  surface  is  carried 
onward  by  the  wind  and  breaks  on  the  slope  and 
the  crest  of  the  swells.  The  underlying  structure 
over  which  the  detail  plays  is  far  more  important 
than  any  surface  happening,  since  it  is  character- 
istic of  an  immense  body  of  water. 

In  discussing  with  you  this  side  of  our  subject, 
we  drift  back  and  forth  between  suggestion  and 
choice,  for  they  are  in  reality  very  closely  con- 
nected. Choice  has  a  double  meaning,  for  it  signi- 
fies  preference   as  well   as   selection.   Suggestion 

117 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

comes  through  choice,  and  is  a  motive.  We  shall 
have  both  of  them  with  us  for  a  considerable  time, 
let  us  hope;  for  they  leave  us  only  at  second  child- 
hood. 

I  feel  no  diffidence  in  urging  on  you  the  value 
of  promiscuous  information;  for  though  your  in- 
terest may  be  special  it  has  a  way  of  dragging  in 
all  of  your  personal  experience.  A  knowledge  of 
geology,  for  instance,  might  seem  unimportant  for 
the  painter,  and  yet  let  us  see. 

The  hill  lines  about  here  are  the  result  of  the  ice 
sheet  as  it  passed  over  our  land  and  fell  into  the 
ocean.  It  carried  all  minor  obstructions  before  it, 
and  left  the  hills  modeled  by  its  passing.  With 
such  a  thought  in  mind,  one  would  scarcely  see 
smaller  inequalities,  and  technique  would  simplify 
itself.  It  is  true  that  Joel  built  his  stone  wall  on  the 
sky-line,  but  we  forget  the  wall  in  thinking  of  the 
hill,  and  how  that  itself  was  built;  we  choose  be- 
tween Joel  and  the  glacier. 

The  reefs  outside  of  the  cove  are  roughly  par- 
allel, and  their  direction  is  the  same  as  the  ridges 
of  land  that  we  see  on  the  opposite  shore.  They 

Ii8 


THE  STUDENT 

once  formed  a  part  of  it  and  we  trace  a  line  which 
is  continuous,  though  interrupted.  When  this  por- 
tion of  the  world  was  in  its  latter  making,  something 
bent  it,  and  the  crust  was  so  folded  as  to  show  a 
broken  end  which  we  now  know  as  the  surface. 
It  is  made  up  of  layer  after  layer  of  stratified  rock, 
with  vertical  planes  of  cleavage.  The  frost  has 
done  its  part,  and  the  weaker  rock  has  gone,  but 
that  which  is  left,  is  parallel  still  and  by  no  possi- 
bility could  a  general  line  take  an  independent 
direction.  We  may  not  paint  very  differently  for 
knowing  the  reefs'  family  history,  and  yet  would 
we  not  be  more  likely,  in  view  of  their  origin,  to 
refer  them  to  the  land  of  which  they  were  formerly 
a  part  and  in  doing  so  avoid  any  mistake  as  to 
flotsam? 

You  need  not  make  a  public  nuisance  of  your 
knowledge.  I  am  not  recommending  geological  pic- 
tures, but  I  am  trying  to  show  you  how  a  little 
general  information  may  influence  your  choice  of 
line. 

In  landscape  painting  there  are  many  places 
where  accuracy  is  of  slight  importance.  No  one's 

119 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

feelings  are  much  injured  if  your  tree  is  three 
sizes  too  large,  or  if  you  leave  it  out  altogether;  it 
is  not  like  taking  liberties  with  some  one's  face. 
We  have  freedom  in  this  matter  which  is  very 
much  appreciated;  but  it  brings  with  it  obliga- 
tions in  the  way  of  essentials  which  we  cannot 
avoid. 

Nature's  laws  are  not  to  be  questioned.  The  sea 
must  lie  flat,  no  matter  what  we  may  do  with  the 
wave,  and  there  may  be  no  impossibilities  in  the 
way  of  general  land  form,  or  inconsistencies  of 
light  and  shade.  Moreover,  all  the  detail  of  which 
we  are  masters  must  be  so  chosen  as  to  point  to 
these  unalterable  things.  The  small  variations  add 
when  they  all  have  structural  value. 

To  return  to  the  drawing  of  our  ledges,  which 
may  be  done  by  a  single  stroke  of  the  brush.  If 
you  copy  accurately  the  mass,  measure  its  dis- 
tance below  the  horizon,  and  the  separation  from 
the  point  on  the  right;  you  are  certainly  a  faithful 
citizen,  and  if  you  have  made  no  mistakes,  you 
cannot  be  very  far  wrong.  But  you  will  find  that 
it  takes  time  to  be  as  good  as  that,  and  life  is 

1 20 


THE  STUDENT 

scarcely  long  enough  for  all  that  we  can  see  to  do. 
Moreover,  the  tide  Is  coming  up,  the  wind  is 
changing,  the  sun  may  go  in,  the  shadows  are 
shrinking,  the  dinner  bell  will  ring  soon,  and  at  our 
house,  "If  them  boarders  don't  git  back  on  time, 
they  don't  git  nothin'  to  eat."  Life  presses;  we  are 
willing  to  drop  back  to  geology  and  paint  a  ledge 
that  could  have  happened  whether  it  actually  did 
so  or  not.  So  we  use  our  single  brush  stroke,  and 
imply  more  than  we  state. 

This  is  a  matter  of  convenience  and  speed,  but  it 
has  a  more  important  bearing  in  the  line  of  thought 
implied,  for  it  enlarges  our  subject  by  suggestion. 
To  any  one  It  has  a  look  of  rightness  and  there 
need  be  nothing  further  said. 

Perhaps  you  w^ill  think  that  this  Is  all  too  psy- 
chological, and  has  not  much  to  do  with  what  we 
see,  but  I  hope  that  by  this  time  you  may  realize 
that  the  objective  is  only  a  part  of  seeing,  and  that 
our  mental  processes  must  be  reckoned  with  as 
well. 

We  will  take  one  further  case  of  suggestion, 
which  has  more  to  do  with  objects  or  people  as  we 

121 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

actually  know  them.  We  paint  a  portrait,  carefully 
drawing  the  features,  and  supplying  all  that  the 
heart  could  desire  in  the  way  of  clothes,  chair  arms, 
books,  and  other  accessories;  but  to  the  family, 
somehow,  it  is  not  exactly  like  Father.  No  two 
agree  as  to  what  is  at  fault,  but  the  real  trouble  is 
that  Father  has  a  nose  that  forces  attention  and 
we  insensibly  associate  him  with  that  feature.  It 
is  a  matter  of  emphasis,  and  if  we  apply  it  in  the 
right  spot,  the  portrait  is  a  living  likeness,  and 
every  one  is  pleased  —  except  possibly  Father.  It 
is  a  case  of  suggestion,  for  a  well-known  character- 
istic brings  up  the  thought  of  the  person  and  we 
do  not  inquire  too  closely  into  existing  facts.  To 
overemphasize  is  to  caricature,  but  to  insist  on  a 
point,  and  yet  to  keep  it  well  in  hand,  is  to 'char- 
acterize and  suggest.  Art  is  subtle  exaggeration  not 
carried  to  the  grotesque.  It  is  dangerous  ground,  of 
course,  but  let  us  take  it  as  one  of  the  perils  of  the 
profession. 

To  follow  to  the  end  this  subject  of  suggestion 
would  carry  us  through  all  the  experiences  of  our 
lives.  Much  of  it  would  be  purely  personal,  but 

122 


TEE  STUDENT 

some  of  It  would  be  common  experience  or  com- 
mon knowledge.  For  Instance,  in  representing  a 
heated  object  It  would  be  natural  to  associate  with 
It  rising  wavy  lines,  referring,  of  course,  to  the  re- 
fraction caused  by  a  warm  column  of  air  such  as 
we  have  all  seen.  It  Is  a  condition  that  we  know 
in  connection  with  heat,  and  accordingly  carries 
that  suggestion.  There  are  many  such  things  which, 
without  our  having  given  especial  attention  to 
them,  have  become  general  symbols  of  sensation. 
I  recommend  the  matter  as  a  subject  for  con- 
templation. 

As  a  general  thing  It  Is  good  to  extend  one's  in- 
terest In  all  directions,  for  to  enlarge  experience  Is 
to  sharpen  judgment.  You  measure  through  living 
and  not  through  rules.  If  your  effort  is  a  very 
limited  one,  you  have  small  standards  for  com- 
parison. As  for  the  actual  painting,  try  anything 
that  Interests  you,  whether  It  Is  impossible  or  not. 
Failure  never  hurt  any  one;  you  are  much  more 
likely  to  be  the  victim  of  your  successes. 

I  said  last  week  that  a  picture  is  most  self- 
revealing,  for  It  shows  not  only  your  skill,  your 

123 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

knowledge,  general  and  special,  but  also  the  sum- 
ming-up of  your  character  as  revealed  by  your 
taste  and  choice.  If  we  make  all  of  this  information 
public,  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  avail 
ourselves  of  it  also.  It  is  good  from  time  to  time  to 
have  a  house-cleaning  and  remember  the  Salvation 
Army. 

I  urge  that  you  give  special  attention  to  habits, 
well-known  facts,  inhibitions  that  are  made  into 
principles,  fear,  both  of  breaking  and  keeping  the 
accepted;  in  general,  all  qualities  that  may  close  the 
mind  to  new  light.  But  when  you  paint,  let  me 
repeat  it,  you  have  but  one  object,  and  that  is  to 
do  exactly  what  you  see  —  with  your  mind.  All  we 
have  spoken  of  is  behind  that  seeing,  and  some  of 
it  may  never  rise  to  the  consciousness  at  all. 


V 
Last  week  we  came  to  the  point  of  centering  our 
interest  on  one  particular  spot,  but  in  debating  as 
to  the  best  way  of  doing  it,  we  became  involved  in 
a  discussion  of  suggestion  and  choice.  It  is  quite 
possible  for  us  to  spend  all  of  our  time  in  thinking 
of  what  we  would  like  to  be,  but  I  believe  there  is 
not  the  same  danger  if  our  purpose  is  to  do.  The 
finished  picture  is,  after  all,  the  last  coat  of  paint 
you  put  on,  and  though  it  is  not  always  possible 
to  work  without  making  corrections,  these  errors 
should  be  lapses  in  dexterity  rather  than  those 
arising  through  loose  thought.  There  is  many  a 
thing  that  you  are  tempted  to  try  on  your  picture 
that  you  could  settle  by  careful  consideration  in 
advance  and  so  save  time  and  trouble  and  paint. 
Trouble  we  do  not  mind  and  paint  is  cheap  enough, 
but  time  is  a  limited  commodity,  and  should  be 
neither  lost,  killed,  nor  burnt;  more  thought  and 
less  paint ;  there  may  be  a  chance  for  pictures  later. 
This  brings  us  back  to  a  subject  that  we  have 

125 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

partly  considered,  that  of  the  double  mind.  If  we 
could  convince  ourselves  that  taste  is  a  matter  of 
pure  reason,  we  could  hope  to  evolve  systems  and 
rules  that  would  not  only  spare  us  all  indiscretions, 
but  would  make  masterpieces  as  common  as  —  in- 
telligence. There  have  been  many  attempts  to 
formulate  such  systems,  but  the  results  have  been 
purely  negative,  and  the  masterpiece,  as  a  daily 
occurrence,  seems  to  be  as  far  off  as  ever.  If  in 
such  a  way  you  merely  prevent  a  man  from  be- 
coming offensive,  one  would  naturally  say  that  the 
constructive  element  is  missing,  whatever  that 
might  prove  to  be.  It  is  better  in  the  long  run  to 
wallow  in  good  intentions  and  the  possibility  of 
success  than  to  be  one  of  a  safe  majority,  and  join 
the  great  mediocrity  before  your  time.  I  am  cer- 
tain I  do  not  know  why  you  like  one  thing  and  I 
like  another ;  you  seem  to  me  to  have  inferior  taste ; 
but  people  say  that  of  me  too.  There  is  one  cer- 
tainty, and  that  is  that  the  public  is  wrong  anyway. 
Taste  is  the  foundation  of  a  picture,  and  it  is 
not  a  matter  of  reason,  though  it  is  recognized  by 
the  conscious  mind.  There  seems  nothing  left  us 

126 


THE  STUDENT 

but  to  hand  It  to  the  subconscious,  which  is  ap- 
parently accustomed  to  promiscuous  gifts  as  well 
as  being  somewhat  acquisitive  on  its  own  account. 
This  is  not  so  much  like  begging  the  question  as  it 
seems,  and  I  have  no  disposition  to  give  either  of 
your  minds  a  rest,  or  recommend  the  simple  life, 
which  by  the  way  is  simple  only  as  long  as  you 
have  no  object. 

If  you  say,  "  I  am  as  I  am,"  and  let  it  go  at  that, 
you  will  have  to  be  as  you  are  and  no  help  for  it. 
There  is  many  a  painter  who  would  find  it  quite 
impossible  to  prove  his  genius  by  logical  argument, 
or  even  justify  his  taste  to  himself.  He  knows  he  is 
right  because  he  likes  it  that  way  and  the  pictures 
prove  it.  In  short,  he  is  as  he  is,  and  that  may  be 
very  good;  but  granting  that  as  a  start,  why  not 
be  better?  We  all  have  that  hope,  and  in  holding  it, 
associate  it  with  others.  We  are  not  out  to  beat, 
but  we  do  want  to  win.  If  there  is  any  possible  way, 
let  us  train  for  it.  The  obvious  method  is,  as  I  have 
said  before,  to  supply  ourselves  with  the  technique 
of  the  profession  and  then  let  matters  take  their 
course,  until  we  reach  our  limit. 

127 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

The  emphasis  has  generally  been  laid  on  tech- 
nique, but  if  we  go  further  and  add  taste  and  sug- 
gestion as  direct  elements  in  picture-making,  we 
bring  in  the  subconscious  and  conscious  minds.  We 
do  not  know  how  the  conclusions  are  formed  in  the 
subconscious  mind,  but  we  know  the  material  from 
which  they  are  drawn.  Take  a  puzzling  question, 
isolate  the  facts  carefully,  and  then  forget  them. 
You  will  find  eventually  that  you  will  have  an 
answer  without  conscious  weighing,  which  may 
even  disagree  with  the  outer  judgment,  and  yet 
carry  with  it  a  sense  of  personal  conviction.  Not 
that  the  decision  is  necessarily  right,  but  as  right 
as  we  are  ourselves,  and  in  harmony  with  the  per- 
sonality. I  am  willing  to  take  that  as  our  unknown 
quantity  and  not  even  try  to  solve  it,  though 
something  could  be  done  in  that  direction  by  the 
comparison  of  these  little  equations  of  ours,  after 
the  manner  one  would  pursue  in  the  ordinary  proc- 
esses of  algebra.  We  might  find  out  more  than  we 
wish  to  know.  At  all  events,  here  is  our  working 
basis. 

We  have  a  suitable  place  in  our  system  where  we 

128 


THE  STUDENT 

keep  our  strictly  personal  possessions,  such  as 
taste,  all  sorts  of  instinctive  impulses,  and  artistic 
temperament,  if  you  like  the  name.  Some  selective 
process  goes  on  there,  which  comes  out  in  the  form 
of  individual  conclusions,  and  may  or  may  not 
agree  with  those  of  conscious  thought.  We  all 
share  one  thing  in  common,  however,  and  that  is 
the  material  gained  through  thought  and  our 
senses  before  it  is  passed  to  the  subconscious  mind. 
In  the  quality  of  this  material  our  chance  for  bet- 
terment lies,  and  this  is  why  it  is  worth  our  while 
to  study  it  closely  instead  of  following  the  easy 
way  of  impulse.  At  the  same  time  there  Is  a  sense 
of  genuine  satisfaction,  knowing  as  we  do  that 
back  of  all  our  conscious  effort  is  the  unreachable 
person  who  will  finally  decide,  and  in  whom  we 
have  the  utmost  confidence  since  it  is  our  inner 
self.  This  being  understood,  we  will  consider  other 
people's  queer  ways,  and  arrive  once  more  at  sug- 
gestion and  choice;  we  do  the  suggesting,  and  they 
make  the  choice. 

We  have  mentioned  pictures  a  number  of  times, 
and  on  each  occasion,  without  going  too  closely 

129 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

into  details,  we  have  spoken  of  some  quality  that 
they  must  have.  Drawing,  for  instance,  sounds  like 
four  years  at  the  Art  School;  but  it  means  even 
more  than  that,  for  it  includes  painting,  and  sug- 
gestion, and  taste,  and  sensation;  in  fact  nearly 
everything  but  imitation.  Even  then  one  must  be 
able  to  imitate  or  one  would  be  unable  not  to  do  it. 
The  training  only  enables  the  hand  to  obey  the 
mind,  and  we  are  back  again  to  the  source  of  all  our 
troubles.  It  is  a  mixed  affair  at  best,  for  we  are 
likely  to  think  of  drawing  as  line,  which  is  an  ab- 
straction. As  there  are  only  boundaries  in  Nature, 
the  question  comes  at  once,  What  shall  we 
bound?  Pure  line  is  perhaps  an  illustrator's  or  an 
etcher's  problem,  but  the  painter  has  the  same  in 
another  way.  He  passes  with  color  from  one  form 
to  another,  but  in  doing  so  expresses  direction  and 
separation  as  does  the  draftsman  in  a  more  abstract 
form. 

The  human  mind  is  very  sensitive  to  order  and 
the  most  common  and  obvious  manifestation  of  it 
is  sequence.  We  are  thinking  only  of  objects,  but 
we  might  carry  the  thought  to  considerable  length, 

130 


THE  STUDENT 

since  it  is  the  civilized  instinct  against  lawlessness. 
It  is  especially  important  for  the  painter  to  take  it 
in  this  way,  for  it  gives  him  a  sure  method  of  di- 
recting the  attention  which  is  predisposed  to  follow 
a  path.  This  is  naturally  another  clue  in  the  selec- 
tion of  details  which  should  be  incidents  in  the  line 
of  thought  or  vision  leading  to  the  center  of  in- 
terest. We  take  advantage  of  every  general  mental 
habit  we  can  find  and  use  it  for  our  own  purposes. 
If  the  eye  follows  a  sequence,  why  not  use  a  se- 
quence to  lead  to  the  point  we  wish  especially  to 
emphasize?  This  is  elementary,  but  of  importance, 
since  we  take  a  definite  stand  against  imitation  as 
the  object  of  a  picture.  Most  of  these  habits  are 
perfectly  unconscious,  and  form  that  instinctive 
knowledge  of  Nature  of  which  we  have  previously 
spoken. 

When  you  wish  to  produce  thought  of  a  special 
condition,  I  recommend  that  you  not  only  con- 
sider the  material  objects  you  have  at  command, 
but  also  how  they  have  been  generalized  into  sym- 
bols of  sensation.  Some  few  of  these  symbols  have 
reduced  themselves  to  the  point  of  abstract  line, 

131 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

such  as  we  have  in  the  case  of  motion  or  heat. 
These  come  very  near  being  graphic  gestures,  and 
the  lines  take  the  place  of  the  motion  demonstrated 
by  the  hand.  They  have  an  unfortunate  associa- 
tion for  us,  since  our  chief  experience  of  them  is  in 
the  witty  Sunday  supplement.  If  we  eliminate  the 
wit  there  is  something  substantial  left,  for  the 
whirling  lines  and  trailing  lines  are  lines  of  real 
sensation. 

If  you  are  literal-minded,  paint  a  wheel  with  all 
of  its  spokes,  and  ask  any  one  to  believe  it  to  be 
moving.  Or  try  a  wave  from  a  photograph,  or  even 
a  moving  figure.  Plainly  it  is  not  what  the  object 
is,  but  what  it  has  done  in  the  passing.  Following 
lines  are  symbols  of  motion.  They  are  on  no  ac- 
count to  be  taken  literally,  or  else  they  miss  their 
object.  We  cannot  paint  our  moving  figure  and 
follow  it  with  a  series  of  lines  to  indicate  motion, 
but  we  can  give  it  an  unbalanced  pose,  eliminate 
parts  that  are  vaguely  seen,  and  emphasize  the 
horizontal  forms  and  shadows  immediately  behind 
it.  We  get  our  following  lines  and  the  sensation 
coming  from  them,  but  they  are  unquestioned  and 

132 


THE  STUDENT 

unnoticed  because  they  ostensibly  belong  to  nat- 
ural objects.  You  can  readily  see  that  this  is 
effective  only  up  to  the  point  of  where  you  are 
found  out;  for  it  must  be  accepted  subconsciously. 
To  arrange  it  with  water  forms  is  simple,  for  few 
people  know  enough  to  question  them,  and  you 
can  be  untroubled  by  fact  in  making  such  disposi- 
tions as  best  suit  your  purpose.  To  a  puritanical 
nature,  this  might  seem  to  be  verging  on,  shall  we 
say,  invention?  But  I  have  to  remark  that  we  wish 
only  to  create  a  sensation  and  that  sordid  details 
are  useful  only  if  they  are  used. 

It  may  seem  somewhat  premature  to  speak  of  a 
future,  when  the  present  is  still  as  much  as  we  can 
comfortably  attend  to,  but  I  see  something  coming 
in  the  way  of  covert  suggestion  that  will  add  to  the 
living  quality  of  pictures.  One  may  be  contented 
and  happy  in  the  obvious,  and  even  feel  one's  self 
lucky  to  get  it,  but  in  the  end  we  stagnate  and 
interest  lapses.  Think  of  the  excitement  of  a  day  at 
sea  when  the  air  is  full  of  the  mist  driven  from  the 
crest  of  the  waves,  and  one  finds  a  rainbow,  and 
then  another  and  another,  even  where  the  eye  was 

133 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

resting  and  seeing  none  before.  Each  disappears  as 
we  find  the  next  one.  It  is  constant  discovery,  and 
somehow  very  much  to  our  personal  credit. 

One  might  question  perhaps  the  value  of  any- 
thing in  pictures  beyond  the  range  of  easy  sight, 
and  yet  in  a  way  they  are  much  like  people  with  all 
of  the  forms  of  personal  appeal.  If  we  can  add  sur- 
prise to  our  picture  without  impairing  its  more 
obvious  side,  we  have  increased  its  power  and  per- 
manent interest.  There  are  practical  ways  of  doing 
this,  some  by  subtle  incident  as  in  the  case  of  the 
rainbows,  and  others  of  a  more  arbitrary  nature, 
which  might  seem,  to  the  strictly  conscientious, 
like  stealing  Cubist  thunder. 

I  merely  suggest  that  the  mind  is  sensitive  to 
repetition,  order,  sequence,  accepts  the  frankly  in- 
tentional, and  if  these  are  not  understandable, 
humbly  gives  them  the  benefit  of  the  doubt.  We 
like  the  picture,  it  is  easy  enough  to  see  what  it 
means,  but  there  is  something  else  we  do  not  quite 
grasp,  and  it  keeps  us  guessing.  Like  those  generous 
public  donations  which  have  to  be  met  by  an  equal 
amount  before  they  become  fully  available,  we 

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THE  STUDENT 

must  give  something  to  get  something,  and  we 
cannot  buy  all  of  that  picture  with  money. 

Since  we  are  talking  of  drawing,  let  us  think 
about  choice  —  and  why  it  should  be  choice.  The 
most  general  of  all  reasons  is  rarity,  and  if  you 
want  to  be  effective,  hold  that  firmly  in  your  mind. 
No  one  thing  is  good  all  of  the  time.  When  you 
have  a  beautiful  spot  of  color,  do  not  think  you 
will  get  more  beauty  by  making  it  bigger,  for  3^ou 
will  only  make  it  common  that  way.  We  appreciate 
the  one  spot  of  all  that  is  different,  and  so  limited 
in  quantity  as  to  look  extremely  expensive.  Among 
other  things  this  is  called  reserve.  If  along  these 
lines  we  were  to  question  the  relative  importance 
of  the  vertical  and  the  horizontal,  the  vote  would 
certainly  be  in  favor  of  the  former,  since  w^e  have 
it  in  such  limited  quantities.  There  is  no  glory  in 
walking  a  mile;  you  might  even  do  it  for  your 
health.  But  to  climb  the  same  distance  would  be 
worthy  of  mention,  and  to  fall  it  would  be  a  trag- 
edy of  the  first  importance.  As  a  simple  painter, 
then,  use  your  verticals  for  all  they  are  worth. 
Imply  height  where  you  can,  but  be  careful  not  to 

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PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

limit  it,  for  there  is  always  the  unscrupulous  per- 
son who  has  a  better  story  than  yours.  Be  cautious, 
then,  even  in  suggestion  where  the  consequences 
are  borne  by  the  other  person,  for  he  might  refuse 
to  follow,  and  his  conception  of  size  is  what  inter- 
ests us.  It  is  not  what  you  say  about  it,  but  what 
you  can  make  him  believe. 

Exaggeration  is  grotesque,  and  misses  the  mark 
altogether  as  soon  as  it  is  questioned.  If  we  were 
to  take  literally  a  certain  famous  Hokosai  print  of  a 
wave,  it  would  be  a  flat  failure,  for  it  is  a  positive 
statement  and  lacks  suggestion.  The  motion  is  at 
the  top-notch  and  there  is  no  promise  that  it  could 
ever  happen  again.  It  hangs  in  the  air  until  one 
wishes  it  would  come  dov/n  and  be  done  with  it, 
and  is  altogether  an  assault  on  one's  intelligence. 
From  that  point  of  view  we  have  an  unskillful 
mixture  of  orders,  with  neither  of  them  expressed, 
and  both  maligned,  quite  after  the  fashion  of  the 
worthy  Munchausen.  In  fantasy  we  expect  other 
things.  We  have  an  unreal  world  to  begin  with,  and 
after  that  is  established,  facts  may  be  anything 
we  please.   But  even  in  this  there  are  conven- 

136 


THE  STUDENT 

tions,  which  if  broken  take  us  back  to  realities  and 
doubts  once  more.  No  one  objects  to  the  tail  of  a 
mermaid,  but  if  she  were  to  have  gills  we  return  to 
a  realism  which  could  not  be  true.  Truth  seems  to 
depend  very  much  on  the  original  premise.  The 
train  of  thought  is  obvious;  every  one  knows  that 
a  mermaid  is  a  lady  with  a  tail  who  lives  under 
water.  How  she  breathes  is  not  stated,  but  if  we 
endow  her  with  gills  she  certainly  is  no  lady,  and 
we  do  not  care  to  think  of  a  fish.  We  know  that 
facts  speak  for  themselves,  and  that  is  probably 
the  reason  why  they  do  not  always  tell  the  truth. 

We  were  considering  the  value  of  line  and  prac- 
tically defining  it  as  a  path  that  is  easy  to  follow 
either  for  physical  or  mental  reasons.  It  may  be 
for  both  sometimes,  and  it  is  our  idea  to  control 
deliberately  all  of  these  paths.  Often  in  painting  a 
picture  one  gets  an  unintentional  line  by  the  care- 
less placing  of  objects  or  the  chance  coincidence  of 
edges,  and  proves  again  the  value  of  the  deliberate 
use  of  such  things. 

A  further  aspect  of  line  will  pay  for  a  little  con- 
sideration, and  that  is  the  relation  of  one  to  an- 

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PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

other.  We  can  reinforce  our  pointing  by  converging 
lines,  and  emphasize  any  direction  in  this  way.  But 
we  find  also  a  psychological  value  in  line  associa- 
tion that  is  almost  as  undefinable  as  taste.  There 
is  not  much  sensation  in  parallels  probably  because 
of  their  extreme  commonness,  and  perhaps  also 
because  of  their  mechanical  origin.  Not  a  minute 
passes  in  the  existence  of  those  who  live  in  houses 
when  they  are  not  always  in  sight.  The  vertical  is 
a  little  less  common  and  has  an  added  value  of  a 
close  limit  as  we  have  said  before.  We  have  also  a 
keenness  of  perception  of  the  vertical,  which  comes, 
perhaps,  from  that  line  we  are  always  dropping 
from  our  center  of  gravity  to  the  point  of  support. 
With  curves  and  their  associations,  we  have  to 
admit  feeling  a  sensation  that  has  no  root  in  sug- 
gestion or  any  other  source  that  one  can  define. 
There  is  nothing  left  but  to  give  it  up  to  the  sub- 
conscious mind,  perhaps  even  with  a  feeling  of 
relief,  for  so  many  of  our  finest  emotions  seem  to 
belong  to  every  one  and  we  begin  to  doubt  that 
we  are  especially  endowed.  Do  not  ask  me  to  call 
these  lines  of  Beauty ;  there  is  no  virtue  in  a  name, 

138 


TBE  STUDENT 

and  it  would  be  about  as  specific  as  saying  that 
man  is  a  biped. 

One  important  thing,  in  relation  to  line  and  form, 
no  proper  painter  can  afford  to  neglect.  When 
rhythm  is  mentioned  he  must  at  least  look  intelli- 
gent and  have  the  general  appearance  of  knowing 
much  more  of  these  subjects  than  he  has  time  to 
explain.  Simply  a  case  of  good  manners,  and  no  one 
is  injured.  I  do  not  feel  inclined  to  tell  you  exactly 
what  rhythm  is;  there  is  hardly  time  for  that;  but 
I  will  say  that  its  effect  is  suggestion.  We  find  our 
old  friend  order  again,  as  opposed  to  chance,  and 
it  has  the  result  of  inspiring  confidence  because 
plainly  intentional.  We  are  inclined  to  trust  any 
one  who  seems  to  know  what  he  is  about,  and 
credit  is,  after  all,  what  a  painter  must  have  if  he  is 
to  make  his  point.  So  if  there  is  definite  "repeat" 
we  must  all  feel  that  it  is  for  some  good  purpose 
even  though  we  do  not  know  exactly  what  that 
may  be.  Even  the  painter  does  not  necessarily 
have  to  know  more  as  long  as  he  has  induced  the 
proper  mental  attitude  in  his  admirers. 

Practically,   then,   suppose  we  paint  the  pine 

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PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

wood,  which  we  have  agreed  cannot  be  done,  and 
arrange  our  tree-trunks  in  sequences  according  to 
their  value,  repeating  them  in  pairs  and  three  of  a 
kind  with  graduated  spacing,  weaving  the  orders 
in  and  out,  on  some  definite  plan,  we  give  a  sense 
of  mystery  through  an  intentional  arrangement,  the 
reason  for  which  is  not  apparent.  This  must  be  so 
delicately  done  that  it  excites  but  does  not  irritate. 
We  say,  in  graphic  form,  "There  is  something  here 
that  you  do  not  know  about,  and  it  is  not  all  a 
matter  of  eyesight."  This  is  a  frame  of  mind  and 
the  actual  incident  is  colored  by  it. 

Another  way  of  producing  this  same  sensation  is 
by  breaking  some  general  convention,  artistic  or 
otherwise.  This  is  a  little  more  difficult,  for  if  you 
fail  to  supply  the  expected  there  must  be  no  sus- 
picion of  incompetence  on  your  part  —  that  is 
what  the  other  person  must  feel.  It  is  a  very  nice 
balance  and  must  not  be  crudely  done.  Take  the 
Cubists  as  a  warning.  I  have  felt  all  along  that 
they  would  be  of  service  to  us,  and  now  they  are. 
I  anticipated  that  suggestion  would  carry  us  far 
and  that  we  might  make  chance  acquaintances 

140 


TEE  STUDENT 

now  and  then,  but  of  course  we  need  not  Invite 
them  home;  they  only  happen  to  be  going  in  our 
direction.  These  Cubist  forms  insist  on  the  mechan- 
ical to  such  an  extent  that  we  can  think  of  nothing 
else,  and  we  refuse  them  faith  and  even  reason ;  so 
whatever  their  motive  may  be  we  take  them  ob- 
jectively and  they  fail  In  suggestion. 

I  cannot  emphasize  it  too  strongly  that  to  be 
effective,  suggestion  must  be  a  personal  deduction 
from  what  you  supply  and  that  your  own  hand 
must  not  appear  too  plainly  in  the  matter.  It  is 
based  on  common  knowledge  or  common  Impulse, 
else  it  does  not  exist.  This  Is  not  a  harmless  force, 
but  one  that  must  be  carefully  controlled  or  it  leads 
to  several  kinds  of  disaster.  You  can  see  the  psy- 
chology plainly  in  a  Beardsley  drawing  of  twenty- 
five  years  ago.  He  made  his  designs  In  black  and  the 
pattern  was  always  agreeable,  but  the  heads  of  his 
people  were  so  small  as  to  be  revolting  and  re- 
pulsive, probably  because  we  all  have  a  sense  of 
general  proportions  and  an  unduly  small  head  sug- 
gests Idiocy.  One  does  not  get  the  same  repulsion 
from    the   exaggerated   heads   of   the   cartoonist, 

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PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

though  I  admit  that  one  does  not  think  of  brains 
in  that  connection. 

There  is  no  necessity  to  multiply  examples,  if 
you  get  the  thought  that  I  am  trying  to  give  you. 
Paint  the  obvious  aspect  of  things  and  you  need 
not  worry  about  any  of  these  trifles,  for  your  in- 
stinctive choice  will  be  your  guide.  It  is  only  when 
doubts  arise  that  there  is  trouble  and  then  it  is 
good  to  know  something  of  reasons.  We  naturally 
resent  any  criticism  as  to  the  choice  of  our  subject, 
and  we  are  both  right  and  wrong  in  that  feeling. 
Our  original  interest  in  a  subject  is  our  property, 
and  not  a  matter  for  discussion;  the  expression  of 
it,  however,  is  open  to  question  even  by  ourselves. 
It  looks  at  last  as  though  paint  and  brushes  had 
arrived  to  claim  their  own;  certainly  we  cannot 
have  pictures  without  them,  and  they  are  a  great 
convenience,  being  always  ready  to  take  the  blame. 
We  are  holding  them  in  reserve  for  that  purpose 
when  we  have  eliminated  all  of  the  other  doubtful 
factors.  I  know  I  like  that  subject,  but  what  do  I 
like  about  it,  and  have  I  picked  out  the  sort  of 
things   that  would  show  my  interest  plainly  to 

142 


THE  STUDENT 

others?  Then  there  is  the  paint.  It  is  a  good  test 
of  interest  if  another's  picture  makes  you  say  to 
yourself,  "I  wish  that  I  had  seen  that  myself,  for 
I  could  have  done  it  better!" 

I  have  talked  to  you  a  good  deal  about  com- 
position, though  I  believe  I  have  inadvertently 
omitted  to  mention  it  by  name.  There  are  rules 
for  it,  that  are  warranted  to  bring  the  most  satis- 
factory results.  I  have  often  thought  it  would  be 
well  worth  while  to  look  them  up,  except  that  it 
takes  less  time  to  use  one's  judgment  and  confirm 
the  rules  when  need  be,  by  registering  an  exception. 
It  is  very  poor  composition  to  put  a  prominent 
object  in  the  middle  of  your  canvas  unless,  of 
course,  you  happen  to  want  it  there.  There  are 
divisions  of  chiaroscuro  that  are  strictly  proper, 
and  the  center  of  interest  may  be  placed  by  a 
short  mathematical  calculation  or  an  ingenious 
scale  that  you  set  like  a  trap.  The  results  are  always 
satisfactory  if  you  are  satisfied  in  that  way.  It  may 
be  wrong  not  to  avail  ourselves  of  such  things,  but 
somehow  they  give  us  a  feeling  of  stuffed  art,  quite 
like  the  real  thing,  but  suggestive  of  arsenic  and 

143 


V 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

glass  eyes;  or  shall  we  say,  the  mechanical  piano 
which  brings  music  into  every  one's  home?  The 
painter  is  a  very  complex  person,  and  never  satis- 
fied at  best.  He  is  a  lawyer  and  a  doctor  and  "a 
orfan  child  in  one,"  and  there  are  some  things 
about  him  which  cannot  be  expressed  in  a  plotted 
curve. 

Picture  composition  is  an  association  of  colored 
forms  within  a  definite  space,  the  arrangement  and 
proportion  depending  entirely  on  the  object  in 
view.  That  leaves  some  latitude  for  choice  since 
our  objects  are  multitudinous.  Failure  in  general 
would  come  from  lack  of  proper  emphasis  or  in- 
appropriate suggestion.  If  we  avoid  these  two  pit- 
falls we  are  practically  free  to  do  anything  we 
please. 

There  was  a  time  when  symmetry  was  supposed 
to  be  inartistic;  the  studios  were  full  of  careless 
"arrangements."  Bric-^-brac  was  rampant.  The 
architects  revolted  against  the  mansard  roof  and 
the  cupola,  and  burst  out  into  Queen  Anne.  The 
sunflower  came  to  its  own ;  the  kitchen  was  raided 
for  decorative  purposes;  in  fact  Art  was  militant 

144 


TEE  STUDENT 

and  nothing  was  safe.  Since  then  we  have  become 
a  little  self-conscious;  not  truly  remorseful,  but 
with  a  fear  of  seeming  sentimental.  It  is  certainly 
a  healthy  dread.  We  run  from  the  rustic  and  are 
suspicious  of  the  romantic.  Our  studios  are  shops, 
and  an  exhibition  is  a  show.  This  might  be  only 
another  phase  if  the  painters  were  not  definitely  a 
part  of  the  times.  We  belong  to  reconstruction  and 
that  means  that  we  build  on  the  failures  and  suc- 
cesses of  the  past.  Nothing  is  forbidden  us  if  we 
use  it  for  a  decent  purpose,  and  we  are  not  tied  by 
our  own  or  any  one's  method;  the  modern  spirit,  if 
you  like,  and  it  has  come  to  us  through  trouble 
and  failure.  There  is  no  reason  why  Art  should 
not  be  "high"  as  it  was  in  the  last  generation,  but 
it  takes  other  dimensions  to  make  a  solid.  This 
discussion  is  about  composition,  and  we  are  only 
preparing  the  way  to  take  a  leaf  from  the  past 
when  we  want  it. 

Look  across  the  bay  at  those  barges  on  the  ho- 
rizon. They  are  rather  small,  but  you  see  them  at 
once,  because  they  are  regularly  spaced  behind  the 
tug  that  tows  them.   Regularity  of  spacing  is  the 

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PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

special  point,  and  if  we  put  them  on  our  canvas 
symmetrically  we  reinforce  the  suggestion.  You 
may  not  like  that  sort  of  subject,  but  it  is  a  part  of 
the  modern  drama  of  the  sea. 

I  wonder  at  what  period  in  relation  to  us  the 
picturesque  stops?  There  was  a  time  when  nothing 
was  good  but  a  ruin,  and  we  were  limited  then  to 
rich  green  and  brown  shadows,  and  a  few  kinds  of 
cloud.  No  wonder  that  something  had  to  break. 
We  are  the  free  people,  and  we  have  an  ever  more 
receptive  audience,  thanks  again  to  our  Futurist 
friends.  Not  that  the  public  measures  our  attain- 
ments against  theirs,  but  it  has  a  dawning  belief 
that  a  picture  is  something  that  no  one  can  under- 
stand. If  it  is  partly  intelligible  and  still  has  the 
proper  endorsement,  you  can  readily  see  with  what 
gratitude  it  may  be  received  by  picture-lovers.  I 
am  glad  to  give  the  Futurists  full  credit  for  their 
effort;  the  ground  had  to  be  ploughed  and  harrowed 
and  enriched  before  anything  would  grow. 

To  return  to  composition,  before  we  finally  begin 
to  paint.  We  have  said  nothing  about  proportion 
of  color,  and  we  have  in  it  a  hard  subject  to  deal 

146 


THE  STUDENT 

with.  It  seems  largely  a  matter  of  individual  judg- 
ment, guided  by  a  few  general  considerations  such 
as  rarity,  proper  emphasis,  and  other  things  that 
we  have  spoken  of  before.  Rules  are  not  much  help 
as  I  have  hinted ;  not  because  they  are  wrong,  but 
because  there  are  too  few  of  them,  for  you  need  a 
new  one  for  each  picture.  They  are  important  as  a 
justification,  but  ex  post  facto  in  their  nature,  and 
we  have  more  time  for  them  after  the  picture  is 
done.  In  practice,  when  the  large  color  divisions  of 
the  subject  are  laid  in,  they  must  not  only  be  right 
as  nature  relations,  but  their  pattern,  regardless  of 
what  it  means,  should  divide  the  space  gracefully 
and  effectively.  It  would  seem  sufficient  to  have  this 
thought  in  mind,  for  it  is  like  putting  the  question 
to  the  subconscious.  This  is  one  of  the  great  rea- 
sons why  we  should  know  all  of  the  terms  of  our 
problem,  for  what  you  are  thoroughly  conscious  of, 
you  get  some  answer  to,  even  if  you  are  unable  to 
reason  it  out. 

Fix  your  mind  on  motion  when  you  are  painting 
the  sea,  and  your  hand  will  contrive  it  somehow; 
think  that  that  sea  is  modeled  like  putty  and  you 

147 


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PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

will  have  an  immediate  response.  If  this  were  more 
generally  known,  what  agreeable  relations  there 
would  always  be  between  the  painter  and  his  sitter. 
It  is  very  unsafe  to  think  if  you  do  not  want  it  to 
appear  in  the  picture. 

There  is  another  matter  of  which  we  take  too 
little  account  in  estimating  our  color  impressions. 
When  we  look  at  Nature  we  necessarily  confine 
our  attention  to  a  small  space.  But  this  space  has 
a  background  that  is  under  the  same  condition  and 
repeats  the  color  and  the  light.  Our  piece  of  Nature 
is  hung  on  Nature  herself.  We  paint  the  picture 
and  hang  it  on  a  wall  that  has  no  relation  to  it 
whatever,  though  it  may  be  harmonious  and  of 
the  most  excellent  taste.  Consider  this  in  regard 
to  moonlight.  We  paint  the  moon  and  the  rocks 
and  find  what  color  we  can  in  the  blackness.  But  all 
the  colors  are  compared  to  the  night  about  us.  Put 
the  picture  in  a  frame,  hang  it  on  a  day  lit  wall,  and 
there  is  difficulty  in  getting  even  a  suggestion  of 
the  original  sensation.  This  is  an  extreme  case,  and 
except  in  decoration  we  cannot  allow  for  the  pic- 
ture's final  surroundings.  One  thing,  however,  we 

148 


THE  STUDENT 

may  expect;  If  we  include  all  of  the  colors  of  the 
spectrum  in  our  design,  it  will  have  so  complete  a 
tone  within  itself  that  it  will  be  in  a  measure  in- 
dependent of  conditions.  This  cannot  always  be 
done,  especially  when  our  subject  is  a  passing 
effect  which  is  like  a  human  mood,  but  it  is  to  be 
thought  of  when  you  plan  your  great  picture. 

If  I  have  made  myself  clear  in  this  general  dis- 
cussion, you  will  see  that  however  much  we  may 
know  of  visible  facts,  knowledge  is  of  little  im- 
portance to  us  unless  we  can  use  it  constructively. 
I  could  give  you  a  long  list  of  things  that  are  so,  but 
it  would  be  like  a  box  of  pastels  —  every  color  in 
the  world  except  the  one  we  want.  Of  course,  a 
few  of  them  combined  or  related  might  bring  what 
we  need,  but  that  is  what  we  are  talking  about 
and  we  are  losing  no  time. 


VI 

Merely  to  paint  a  picture  does  not  of  necessity 
require  intelligence;  only  a  good  one  needs  that 
power.  Even  with  a  good  picture  the  mind  is  not 
always  involved,  for  talent  will  do  something  in 
any  case.  When  we  come  to  the  better,  talent  is 
glad  to  be  helped,  and  the  best,  means  entire  co- 
operation between  the  conscious  and  subconscious 
minds,  as  well  as  quality  in  each.  This  state  of 
mental  unity  does  not  of  necessity  produce  a 
painter,  but  only  a  balanced  individual  who  is 
superior  and  competent  in  any  direction  he  chooses 
to  pursue.  It  is  a  case  of  fine  cooperation  between 
the  two  minds.  I  have  not  tried  to  improve  either 
of  your  minds,  but  have  made  every  effort  to  force 
them  to  coordinate,  and  bring  you  to  the  full  of 
your  personal  power,  for  your  only  hope  of  dis- 
tinction lies  in  yourself. 

We  all  know  that  it  has  been  a  common  mistake 
in  our  system  of  education  to  place  an  undue  value 
on  facts,  and  leave  the  use  of  them  to  chance.  But 

150 


TEE  STUDENT 

you  could  feed  on  the  "Encyclopaedia  Britannica" 
until  you  had  absorbed  everything  from  A  to  Z 
inclusive,  and  yet  be  unable  to  meet  an  emergency 
or  show  any  evidence  of  a  constructive  idea.  Facts 
alone  are  insufficient  and  like  so  much  dead  ma- 
terial, until  they  are  vitalized  by  a  connecting 
thought.  We  have  a  proper  reverence  for  them,  not 
only  by  reason  of  our  natural  love  for  the  truth, 
but  also,  as  they  so  often  seem  to  be  a  contributing 
cause  to  a  final  result. 

A  painter's  facts  are  somewhat  complicated  In 
their  nature,  for  they  are  the  resultant  of  the  ex- 
ternal and  his  special  personal  equation.  They 
differ  from  the  fact  of  commerce  largely  in  their 
impersonality  and  their  relation  to  law  and  order, 
but  they  also  have  a  quality  which  is  personal  and 
shared  by  all  of  the  world.  They  are  triple,  then, 
in  their  constitution,  and  their  combinations  are 
as  various  as  those  of  matter  without  mind.  If  they 
were  purely  objective,  we  should  have  served  them 
up  long  since  in  paint,  or  if  they  had  been  wholly 
personal,  our  way  would  have  been  easier  and 
the  future  accomplished.  As  it  is,  we  stand  outside, 

151 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

Viewing  and  weighing,  tracing  the  laws  of  Nature, 
measuring  their  effect  on  us,  first  as  human  beings 
and  then  as  individuals.  We  start  from  external 
facts,  and  they  carry  us  all  over  the  world  of  matter 
and  man. 

I  have  tried  to  show  you  how  a  fact  may  be 
identified.  It  is  not  the  simple  affair  of  sight  that 
it  may  seem,  but  in  itself  an  inevitable  result  of 
natural  laws  and  it  passes  to  you  who  are  also  a 
result.  Between  you  and  it  lies  the  mental  con- 
ception which  is  neither  you  nor  the  fact  and  may 
be  far  more  permanent  than  either.  Common  pru- 
dence would  demand  that  in  the  beginning  we 
should  thoroughly  assure  ourselves  as  to  our  facts, 
for  they  are  not  so  solid  as  we  could  wish.  If  they 
could  be  bitten  or  rung  like  a  coin,  it  would  be  a 
matter  of  great  convenience,  but  unfortunately 
there  is  no  way  oftentimes  to  prove  their  value, 
and  it  is  necessary  to  deduce  genuineness  from  their 
effect  when  administered.  You  have  had,  however, 
numerous  warnings  which  should  be  of  practical 
benefit,  and  if  they  are  general  in  their  nature,  so 
are  the  mistakes  themselves. 

152 


THE  STUDENT 

We  see  by  habit  and  fashion,  prejudice  and  de- 
sire, and  though  we  may  keep  all  of  the  color  shed 
by  these  personal  lights,  still  we  must  see  the  un- 
lighted  truth.  Illumine  the  truth  for  others  if  you 
wish,  but  carefully  measure  your  own  radiance 
in  advance.  "What  do  I  think  it  is?  What  is  it? 
What  would  I  like  it  to  be?"  My  thought  is  that 
a  deduction  based  on  a  colored  premise  is  unsound 
at  the  start,  and  no  better  than  opinion.  One  would 
scarcely  allow  such  loose  methods  in  affairs  of 
general  importance,  such  as  in  the  judgment  of 
political  events  or  even  in  a  business  venture.  In 
matters  of  art  the  personal  element  takes  a  very 
large  place,  but  it  is  like  an  individual  reading  of  a 
general  human  truth.  This  does  not  minimize  the 
value  of  the  person,  but  makes  him  a  working  unit 
in  the  big  scheme. 

Here,  perhaps,  we  might  stop  to  ask  if  we  are 
warranted  in  our  effort  to  paint,  when  we  might 
be  spending  all  this  time  in  a  variety  of  useful  ways. 
It  would  be  a  very  good  world  if  each  should  do 
what  he  is  best  fitted  for  and  be  content  in  the 
doing.   This  has  been  proposed,   but  up  to  the 

153 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

present  there  has  been  no  concerted  action  in  the 
direction  of  carrying  it  out.  If  we  measure  by- 
tangible  results,  it  would  often  seem  that  many  a 
picture  might  best  be  laid  as  a  burnt-offering  on 
the  altar  of  Art,  and  yet  there  is  another  view  that 
might  lead  us  cheerfully  to  continue  the  sacrifice. 

What  is  this  mad  impulse  to  paint?  There  is 
ambition  in  it,  but  it  is  not  the  dominant  motive 
that  we  have  been  led  to  believe.  Every  teacher 
will  tell  you  that  his  students  work  with  grim  de- 
termination, but  little  hope  of  undying  fame.  The 
effort  seems  to  pay  for  itself.  This  sounds  like  Art 
for  Art's  sake,  of  pleasant  memories,  but  it  appears 
to  be  a  fact  as  well  as  a  theory.  I  have  a  grave  sus- 
picion that  if  we  were  to  get  to  the  root  of  the 
matter,  we  should  find  what  is  called  the  creative 
impulse  —  the  exclusive  possession  of  mankind. 
It  does  not  follow  that  all  mankind  possesses  it  to 
an  equal  degree,  so  we  save  the  face  of  our  talent 
and  accept  the  place  of  spokesmen  to  a  receptive 
world. 

Here  we  assume  responsibility,  for  personal  mo- 
tives cannot  come  first  if  one  owes  allegiance  to 

154 


THE  STUDENT 

a  cause.  At  this  point  we  find  the  line  between  the 
professional  and  the  amateur,  an  important  one  to 
draw.  Painting  as  a  harmless  amusement  has  much 
to  recommend  it,  and  Nature  is  in  no  position  to 
resent  any  liberties  that  may  be  taken  with  her, 
involuntary  or  otherwise.  But  when  we  come  to 
the  picture,  matters  assume  a  serious  aspect;  it  has 
a  deadly  permanence  and  the  power  of  misleading 
—  even  its  author.  The  safe  way,  as  I  have  hinted, 
would  be  to  destroy  it,  but  we  all  have  a  lurking 
hope  that  others  will  care  to  know  how  happy  we 
have  been.  The  point  is  enjoyment;  we  will  not 
press  it  further. 

Pictures  are  sold  when  some  one  buys  them,  and 
that  proves  something,  though  what  it  is  one  may 
not  always  be  sure  at  all  events,  not  necessarily, 
professional  value,  but  only  that  the  purchaser  is 
willing  to  pay.  If  this  happens  often  enough,  the 
painter  makes  a  living,  but  that  would  suggest  a 
business  as  much  as  a  profession.  The  profession 
must  somehow  be  in  the  picture.  Can  it  be  good- 
ness, then,  aside  from  pleasure?  There  is  hope  in 
the  thought,  but  here  again  is  trouble.    Do  we, 

i5S 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

who  are  professional,  become  amateur  when  we 
fail?  There  is  nothing  left  but  motive  and  good 
intention,  which  are  both  qualities  without  the 
certainty  of  a  satisfactory  end.  We  are  inclined  to 
take  ourselves  very  seriously  if  willing  to  work, 
and  we  sometimes  talk  about  our  art  and  a  career 
in  that  connection.  Both  of  them  may  be  there, 
but  unless  at  the  same  time  there  is  the  impersonal 
value  as  a  motive  there  can  be  no  claim  to  pro- 
fessionalism. I  would  not  eliminate  the  personal; 
it  would  be  a  very  cold  world  without  it;  but  when 
used  as  a  fundamental  motive  I  should  doubt  the 
worth  of  its  general  conclusions. 

We  have  innumerable  examples,  among  the  men 
of  science,  of  devotion  to  the  cause.  With  the 
painters  there  is  every  temptation  to  forget  it,  for 
there  is  no  direct  proof  of  the  worth  of  a  picture, 
and  so  much  depends  on  opinion.  One  self-ques- 
tion, however,  may  be  a  guide.  Are  we  ready  to 
sacrifice  comfort,  applause,  and  the  name  of  suc- 
cess for  an  idea  that  we  never  shall  be  able  fully  to 
express?  It  may  be  easier  merely  to  have  a  good 
time  with  our  pictures.  It  is  a  highly  cultivated 

iS6 


THE  STUDENT 

form  of  diversion,  and  you  are  fortunate  to  be  able 
to  enjoy  it;  most  of  the  world  cannot. 

There  are  pictures  and  good  pictures  and  better 
pictures  and  best  pictures,  not  very  far  apart  on 
the  surface  any  more  than  we  are  ourselves.  The 
difference  is  exactly  the  same,  and  to  pass  from 
one  class  to  another  we  have  to  do  it  first.  We 
choose  our  class  temporarily,  and  inform  ourselves 
as  to  the  next.  Time  would  be  saved  in  choosing 
the  top  to  begin  with,  but  it  would  be  rather  like 
dating  a  coin  ahead  which  might  not  pass  at  its 
face  value.  And  then  where  is  the  top  anyAvay?  In 
the  future,  we  will  say,  but  the  future  must  have 
a  future  and  there  is  another  beyond.  We  will  stick 
to  the  present  and  a  lowly  class.  No  one  can  keep 
us  in  either,  for  time  flies.  I  am  hoping  that  we  may 
speak  of  brush-work  later,  but  the  paint  we  put 
on  is  under  the  brush,  and  we  never  see  it  until  it 
is  there.  We  think  it  first,  and  that  has  caused  all 
this  delay. 

There  are  still  valuable  things  which  we  have 
not  yet  mentioned  —  how  to  judge  a  picture,  for 
instance,   though  in  that  respect  we  have  done 

157 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

something  in  the  way  of  standards.  Much  depends, 
of  course,  on  the  quality  of  the  intention,  which 
you  should  be  able  to  recognize  at  once.  There  are 
certain  things  that  betray  an  intention,  just  as  a 
person's  minor  actions  are  a  good  clue  to  the  in- 
timate character. 

Leaving  aside  the  fundamental  things,  when  you 
find  that  the  colors  which  are  alike  have  been  care- 
fully compared  one  with  another,  you  may  know 
that  the  painter  has  achieved  the  unity  of  the  big 
and  the  small.  Minor  differences  do  not  show  unless 
the  essentials  are  there  as  a  true  background.  To 
find  the  minor  proves  the  major.  As  we  look  out 
across  the  bay,  we  see  the  blue  spotted  with  white- 
caps  from  foreground  to  distance,  all  of  them  white 
with  a  delicate  gradation  of  place.  Then  there  is 
the  change  through  surface;  the  white  skirt  of  the 
girl,  the  breaking  wave,  and  the  cloud.  They  are 
not  the  same  when  we  compare  them,  though  there 
is  but  one  word  for  them  all.  The  gray  of  the  dune 
and  the  gray  of  the  sea  are  almost  identical,  but 
the  same  color  will  not  do  for  them  both. 

Compare  like  colors.  It  is  a  most  valuable  habit, 

IS8 


THE  STUDENT 

and  will  bring  sure  distinction  if  you  know  when 
to  use  it.  That  means  that  at  times  small  differ- 
ences are  of  vital  importance,  while  at  others  they 
are  worse  than  useless.  The  affair  is  not  so  much 
one  of  size,  then,  as  of  occasion.  Just  as  in  other 
matters  it  is  sometimes  even  a  mark  of  genius  to  say 
"when."  I  cannot  tell  you,  it  must  be  left  to  your 
own  capacity,  but  I  have  found  in  practice  that 
minor  differences  used  to  express  major  conditions 
give  a  force  to  the  statement,  through  contrast, 
that  is  obtainable  in  no  other  way. 

This  touches  a  basic  problem,  with  which  we 
have  struggled  since  the  first  man  had  to  choose, 
and  it  has  been  growing  ever  more  insistent  with 
the  increase  of  human  knowledge.  If  we  only  knew 
the  relative  importance  of  things,  life  would  be  one 
long  celebration  and  every  picture  a  masterpiece. 
What  a  fearful  world  to  live  in,  for  every  one  would 
get  exactly  what  he  deserved,  and  no  more!  Most 
of  us  think  that  is  what  we  really  want.  At  all 
events,  there  is  no  immediate  danger,  and  we  can 
safely  confine  ourselves  to  paint  and  all  that  the 
word  implies. 

159 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

In  these  weeks  of  discussion  you  must  have 
realized  how  intimately  we  identify  a  picture  with 
the  laws  which  govern  us.  A  picture  is  not  a  sepa- 
rate creation,  but  in  a  small  way  an  entire  life-story, 
simultaneous  and  a  complete  cycle.  You  have  it 
in  its  sum  and  what  it  stands  for  as  a  whole,  and 
you  can  trace  the  weaving  of  events  as  they  form, 
through  their  adding,  the  great  relations.  The 
events  themselves  must  be  significant,  for  on  their 
selection  depends  the  final  answer.  That  is  why  I 
have  faithfully  tried  to  curb  your  thirst  for  details, 
lest  inadvertently  the  answer  should  be  a  surprise 
to  us  all.  The  end  should  be  fixed  in  the  beginning 
like  a  destination,  and  we  should  work  back  from 
it,  getting  all  that  we  can  within  our  limits.  Do 
not  confound  this  word  "simultaneous,"  as  we  use 
it,  with  the  work  of  those  who  style  themselves 
Simultanists,  for  their  object  is  to  crowd  into  one 
canvas  the  record  of  their  joys  and  sorrows  as  ex- 
perienced during  a  considerable  time.  We  place 
no  such  value  on  personal  affairs,  and  are  doing 
our  utmost  to  confine  ourselves  to  matters  of  only 
universal  importance.    In  so  doing  we  lay  our- 

i6o 


THE  STUDENT 

selves  open  to  the  chance  of  being  called  altruistic, 
visionary,  impractical,  and  a  number  of  things  that 
characterize  those  who  are  actuated  by  other  than 
personal  motives.  We  are  hoping  to  be  professional 
even  though  our  pictures  are  not  very  good. 

Painting,  as  a  matter  of  technique,  in  former 
days  consisted  of  drawing  and  values.  We  have  not 
by  any  means  passed  beyond  these  requirements, 
but  they  have  become  more  comprehensive  in 
their  nature,  and  we  include  with  them  now  many 
things  that  were  scarcely  thought  of  before.  I  have 
explained  at  some  length  what  drawing  means  to  us, 
and  we  have  touched  on  values,  but  I  would  have 
you  take  the  latter  word  in  its  literal  sense  instead 
of  applying  it  only  to  degree  of  light.  Values  come 
in  sequences;  those  of  light  and  color  we  have  had 
before;  now  we  add  another  class  in  what  we  may 
call  the  psychological  values.  There  Is  nothing  new 
in  this;  it  has  always  been  with  us,  though  un- 
classified, and,  for  that  reason,  a  matter  of  chance. 
We  are  also  able  now  to  establish  values  between 
classes  of  values,  balancing  light,  color,  and  the 
mental  effect.    It  used  once  to  be  considered  a 

i6i 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

criminal  offense  to  change  a  light  value;  then  color 
came  to  its  own  and  crime  attained  respectability. 
Now  we  add  the  third  factor,  which,  it  must  be 
admitted,  has  caused  us  some  uneasiness  and  dis- 
tress, but  I  do  not  believe  that  the  future  is  as 
gloomy  as  it  is  painted  and  see  no  reason  why  we 
should  not  turn  our  duet  into  a  trio  with  very 
satisfactory  results. 

The  great  change  comes,  not  in  the  addition  of 
a  third  element,  but  in  the  fact  that  the  others 
may  be  modified  to  fit  it.  We  have  given  up  the 
literal  and  frankly  admit  that  all  things  are  relative 
and  at  the  command  of  a  directing  mind.  This  is 
more  a  difference  of  acceptance  than  of  fact,  but 
none  the  less  important  for  that.  Realism  has  never 
been  more  than  an  individual  opinion  held  in  the 
delusive  name  of  truth.  Now  we  accept  the  opinion 
for  itself  and  weigh  it  as  a  human  product,  like  a 
chemical  union  of  elements  in  which  the  con- 
stituents have  disappeared.  Our  effort  so  far  is  to 
make  our  elements  C.  P. 

Since  we  are  speaking  of  elements,  it  is  as  good 
a  time  as  another  to  mention  Beauty.  We  are  sup- 

162 


TEE  STUDENT 

posed  to  thrive  on  it;  very  likely  we  do,  but  we  are 
a  little  self-conscious,  and  would  prefer  not  to 
speak  of  it.  Perhaps,  too,  we  identify  the  name 
with  the  effect  that  it  produces  on  certain  vague 
and  structureless  natures;  we  all  know  the  sort. 
Our  sympathy  and  understanding  are  with  them, 
and  it  is  a  wonderful  thing  indeed  to  have  a  sen- 
sitive soul,  if  it  is  sensitive  at  the  right  time.  But 
the  drift  might  be  into  sentimentality,  which  is 
really  the  husk  of  sentiment,  useful,  perhaps,  as  a 
by-product,  but  scarcely  the  kernel  itself. 

Beauty  should  not  make  us  suffer,  as  it  is  some- 
times said  to  do.  You  should  be  able  to  look  with 
perfect  calmness  at  a  pink-tipped  sunset  cloud  and 
say  you  rather  liked  the  relation  to  the  blue-green 
sky  above.  It  could  be  done  with  a  little  vermilion, 
which  would  hold  all  right  with  zinc.  Alizarine 
would  be  too  violet,  and  you  cannot  trust  madder 
anyway.  In  the  meantime  your  subconscious  might 
be  in  the  throes  of  an  aesthetic  convulsion  while 
your  hand  responded  to  order  and  the  beautiful 
sunset  cloud.  Paint  begins  to  loom. 

Beauty  is  order,  and  our  sensation  lies  in  the 

163 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

passage  between  the  facts.  It  exists  in  our  percep- 
tion of  relations  and  the  governing  laws,  and  can- 
not be  in  any  sense  external.  Naturally  we  carry 
it  with  us  wherever  we  go.  You  may  search  the 
world  for  conditions  that  best  suit  your  tempera- 
ment, but  the  master-subject  is  not  one  of  place. 
The  painter  as  the  expounder  of  order  is  a  delegate- 
at-large,  and  yet  it  is  highly  probable  that  his  type 
of  mind  will  conform  to  racial  characteristics,  and 
his  work  be  among  his  own  people. 

Since  we  have  dragged  in  paint  in  connection 
with  a  cloud,  I  would  speak  of  how  you  think  your 
color.  It  is  not  a  matter  of  names  with  us,  except 
in  a  general  way.  We  are  likely  to  mention  the 
primaries,  but  our  thought  is  of  sensation,  and  our 
measurements  are  dark  and  light,  warm  and  cold. 
These  would  include  all  variations,  and  are  terms 
of  comparison,  the  limits  of  possible  change.  If 
you  have  a  mathematical  past,  this  will  at  once 
be  recognized  as  the  process  of  differentiation, 
though  in  that  case  the  limits  are  between  zero  and 
infinity,  a  very  considerable  range.  We  scarcely 
deal  with  items  of  that  order,  though  we  stake 

164 


TEE  STUDENT 

what  we  have  between  the  limits  of  failure  and 
success.  It  is  a  civilized  method  of  identifying  a 
fact. 

In  your  experience  with  paint,  you  must  have 
met  at  times  with  a  certain  undesirable  color  which 
we  know  as  mud.  There  seems  to  be  no  special 
reason  why  it  should  be  so  unmistakably  offensive, 
unless  perhaps  we  can  find  that  it  has  broken  some 
law;  and  that  is  quite  the  case.  You  may  entertain 
the  greatest  respect  for  mud  as  a  vibration,  but  it 
is  ill-timed  and  bears  no  relation  to  its  surround- 
ings. It  breaks  continuity  and  the  logic  of  the  con- 
ditions; therefore  the  taste  rejects  it  as  a  painful 
presence.  This  is  worth  mentioning,  since  it  is  the 
instinctive  recognition  of  the  inappropriate.  If  our 
taste  were  so  trained  as  to  be  repelled  at  once  by 
a  broken  law,  we  could  devote  our  minds  entirely 
to  putting  on  the  paint.  This,  as  you  perceive,  is 
another  name  for  knowledge,  which  should  accom- 
pany to  some  extent  our  activities  with  the  brush. 

You  think  your  subject  first,  and  if  your  tech- 
nique is  automatic,  it  is  by  reason  of  what  you 
have  thought  before.  This  is  the  hand  trained  by 

i6s 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

experience.  The  danger  lies  in  the  quality  of  the 
thought  which  is  passed  to  the  subconscious  to  be 
made  the  basis  of  instinctive  action.  It  is  highly- 
important  that  the  hand  should  have  the  habit  of 
being  always  right,  which  means  that  the  entire 
person  must  be  imbued  with  the  sense  of  law.  We 
learn  much  in  our  arbitrary  manner,  and  some  of 
it  is  true,  but  unless  we  live  by  the  governing  laws, 
we  have  no  clue  whatever  to  what  lies  beyond  our 
habits.  You  should  be  adequate  at  all  times  to 
meet  all  conditions  as  people  of  the  world.  This 
could  never  be  done  through  a  knowledge  of  iso- 
lated facts  or  a  pretty  trick  of  handling  the  brush. 
You  might  be  a  specialist  that  way ;  but  you  belong 
to  the  powers  that  move  things,  and  everything 
moves. 

In  urging  you  to  value  the  universal  interests,  I 
am  quite  aware  that  painting  in  itself  may  become 
to  you  a  matter  of  minor  importance,  your  special 
means  to  a  larger  end.  Here  again  we  touch  on  the 
professional,  the  impersonal  element  that  belongs 
to  the  cause.  There  always  must  be  a  certain 
vagueness  when  we  speak  of  principles,  for  we  can 

i66 


THE  STUDENT 

at  best  only  phrase  them.  They  are  like  force, 
which  we  know  by  its  result,  but  of  which  we  can 
get  no  close  mental  conception.  The  important 
thing  is  the  acceptance  on  your  part  of  the  thought 
that  all  visual  impressions  are  a  result,  partly  of  the 
physical  conditions  of  Nature  and  partly  of  your 
own  mentality.  This  is  an  attitude  that  should  be 
back  of  every  conscious  thought ;  it  will  lead  you  to 
see  continuity  and  relation  wherever  the  eyes  rest. 
If  we  had  begun  with  technique  in  the  more  usual 
way,  it  is  not  certain  that  even  at  this  time  we 
should  have  had  a  definite  point  of  view. 

I  might  have  told  you  at  the  start  to  mix  blue 
and  yellow  when  your  desire  was  for  green,  but 
were  you  sure  that  it  was  green  that  you  wanted? 
Though  the  tree  seemed  so,  was  it  as  green  as  it 
looked?  And  even  if  it  was,  would  you  want  it  now? 
It  might  possibly  have  been  better  seen  and  for- 
gotten, in  view  of  more  important  things.  You 
may  have  such  a  happy  temperament  as  to  want 
whatever  you  get.  It  may  be  a  good  philosophy, 
but  it  really  is  not  Art.  I  recommend  to  you  an- 
other state  of  mind  —  a  moderate  pleasure  in  the 

167 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

attainment,  but  only  as  it  points  the  direction. 
This  is  what  is  known  as  "to  arrive."  It  is  not  a 
matter  of  a  fixed  point,  cutting  circles  or  any  other 
lovely  curve,  but  just  a  straight  line.  The  line 
must  begin  somewhere,  but  it  certainly  does  not 
end  with  you. 

At  the  outset  of  our  career  the  first  question  that 
faces  us  is  our  choice  of  medium.  We  have  settled 
this  practically  long  since,  but  the  reason  for  using 
oil  should  be  clear  to  you  now.  Oil  is  obedient  and 
will  permit  many  changes,  which  sometimes  is  an 
important  factor  in  our  less  skillful  days.  Water- 
color  is  more  refractory,  and  if  you  have  any  special 
end  in  view,  that  seems  to  be  the  point  which  your 
medium  refuses  to  make.  Its  reputation  is  thor- 
oughly delusive,  for  it  is  not  the  simple  and  re- 
sponsive friend  it  pretends  to  be.  If  one  is  inclined 
to  be  grateful  for  a  plausible  result,  the  medium 
fills  the  need,  for  the  underlying  white  of  the  paper 
binds  all  color  together  in  a  way  that  will  pass  for 
law,  and  gives  a  harmony  through  color  united  by 
a  common  term.  Of  course  this  common  term  is 
always  the  same,  and  the  results  will  be  somewhat 

i68 


THE  STUDENT 

uniform,  quite  irrespective  of  the  intentions  of  the 
painter,  who  is  saved  from  indiscretions  he  might  be 
led  to  commit.  In  oil  the  same  office  is  filled  by  the 
absorbent  canvas  or  the  kindly  hand  of  time,  which 
yellows  the  pigment  and  unites  color  which  in  its 
younger  days  might  have  been  crude  or  even  violent. 
It  may  be  satisfactory  to  feel  that  through  lim- 
ited means  it  is  not  possible  to  go  too  far  beyond 
the  bounds  of  good  taste,  but  like  any  other  con- 
vention one  may  be  somewhat  hampered  in  the 
opportunity  for  independent  action  and  free  per- 
sonal expression.  This  is  a  minor  difficulty,  and 
would  never  stand  in  the  way  of  the  man  who  is 
master  and  able  to  control.  He  takes  advantage  of 
points  of  strength  and  directs  where  his  medium 
is  weak  or  refractory.  The  vagueness  of  the  wash 
is  not  used  as  a  charitable  covering  for  any  little 
uncertainties  of  form  or  color,  but  to  express  the 
elusive  and  changing  moods  of  Nature.  When  it  is 
necessary  to  be  direct,  the  medium  can  be  held 
strictly  to  account.  We  might  call  this  a  tempera- 
mental process,  and  certainly  that  quality  is  a  poor 
master  and  far  from  a  good  excuse. 

169 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

Speaking  of  conventions,  why  should  a  water- 
color  be  so  pale?  There  is  no  essential  reason  be- 
yond that  of  custom,  and  it  is  a  purely  artificial 
restriction.  There  is  a  charm  to  delicacy,  but  there 
should  be  a  robust  quality  also.  Our  picture  should 
not  be  in  failing  health  or  like  a  fading  flower,  al- 
though water  is  the  most  widely  distributed  chemi- 
cal combination  in  the  world. 

We  find  another  convention  in  the  way  of  sub- 
ject. There  are  certain  places  in  Nature  bearing 
such  a  strong  resemblance  to  a  water-color  that 
they  lack  nothing  but  a  signature.  Whether  this  is 
the  fault  of  Nature,  the  medium,  or  the  painter, 
matters  very  little,  for  the  damage  has  been  done. 
The  rocky  point  reaching  out  into  the  water  with 
pine  trees  and  a  little  house,  smoke  coming  from 
the  chimney,  and  a  foot-path  leading  to  the  door, 
how  familiar  it  is!  The  sky  is  yellow,  of  course,  and 
blended  as  only  water  or  Nature  could  do  it.  Then 
there  is  the  curling  wave  on  the  beach,  with  emer- 
ald-green top;  this  is  clearly  the  fault  of  the  color- 
man,  for  the  emerald-green  of  the  tube  is  so  like 
that  of  the  wave  it  would  be  like  flying  in  the  face 

170 


TEE  STUDENT 

of  Providence  not  to  use  it.  This  subject  occurs  in 
two  forms,  one  with  moon,  and  one  without. 

The  Italian  water-color  of  the  Bay  of  Naples, 
with  Vesuvius  and  other  accessories,  belongs  to  a 
past  generation,  the  grand  tour  and  copies  of  old 
masters,  but  it  is  characteristic  of  the  medium  and 
enriched  by  color  that  oil  either  could  not,  or  would 
not,  attain.  I  speak  of  these  to  demonstrate  the 
evils  of  a  limit  that  lies  in  the  painter  rather  than 
in  the  medium  itself.  Commonplaces  may  be  ut- 
tered in  any  language,  and  still  leave  it  possible 
that  better  might  be  said.  My  sympathy  is  with 
water-color,  forceful,  delicate,  willful,  obedient, 
unexpected  —  all  of  them  qualities  that  need  a 
steadying  hand. 

I  would  have  the  competent  painter  superior  to 
his  material,  and  able  to  use  any  medium  or  method 
that  would  be  most  suited  to  the  expression  of  his 
thought.  Technically  this  is  not  too  much  to  ex- 
pect, though  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  tendency 
now  is  to  specialize. 

We  have  painters  who  only  paint.  They  look  on 
drawing  in  itself  as  part  of  the  necessary  education 

171 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

of  youth.  So  it  is,  but  in  addition,  between  its  own 
limits,  it  is  able  to  express  a  class  of  sensations  un- 
reachable in  any  other  way.  Its  very  limitations 
may  be  of  service,  for  the  elimination  of  color  makes 
it  easier  to  centralize  the  thought  on  the  line.  But 
it  goes  without  saying  that  though  we  might  have 
a  masterly  drawing,  a  masterpiece  of  art  must  be 
more  universal  in  its  range. 

There  are  various  forms  of  black  and  white,  and 
each  has  special  qualities  inherent  in  itself.  Silver- 
point,  for  example,  is  famed  for  its  delicacy;  it 
really  cannot  be  anything  else.  It  has  all  of  the 
value  of  a  righteous  inhibition,  but  deprives  us  of 
the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  we  might  be 
blacker  if  we  chose.  This  is  not  so  unregenerate  as 
it  sounds,  for  mental  control  creeps  into  the  picture 
and  asserts  itself  without  the  possibility  of  saying 
how  it  is  done.  The  outer  result  may  be  very  much 
the  same  in  either  case,  but  a  strong  hand  with  a 
light  touch  has  a  dynamic  quality  that  feebleness 
never  possesses.  Play  with  your  thunderbolt,  but 
do  not  let  it  get  away. 

Pastel  is  one  of  the  mild  mediums  that  is  cour- 

172 


THE  STUDENT 

teous  and  discreet.  It  always  speaks  softly,  and,  if 
it  sins  at  all,  sins  rather  in  the  way  of  omission  than 
in  the  more  positive  directions.  You  must  not  mis- 
take me;  I  have  the  greatest  admiration  for  all 
forms  of  artistic  expression,  but  I  would  have  them 
at  your  disposal,  yours  to  command,  and  a  means 
of  enlarging  your  horizon  instead  of  giving  it 
narrow  limits.  Not  that  such  a  vast  amount  is  to 
be  known  about  any  medium  as  to  require  a  life- 
time in  its  learning.  There  are  no  mysteries  of 
pigment,  and  the  old  masters  had  no  secrets  that 
if  known  would  lead  the  wandering  feet  of  medi- 
ocrity to  fame.  The  whole  matter  lies  in  the  pur- 
pose, and  on  that,  time  places  its  measure. 

When  we  look  back  on  the  way  we  have  come, 
you  will  see  that  our  own  personality  is  always  a 
factor  of  increasing  importance.  The  trade  of 
painting  can  be  taught,  but  if  you  join  the  pro- 
fession you  must  do  it  through  your  mental  life. 

We  have  reached  the  point  where  you  might 
begin  to  paint,  for  you  should  now  have  some  little 
understanding  of  the  elements  involved.  That  does 
not  mean  that  a  good  picture  will  be  the  spon- 

173 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

taneous  result,  for  we  have  taken  but  the  first  step 
toward  accomplishment.  You  have  been  shown 
that  our  vision  of  Nature  depends  on  a  few  funda- 
mental considerations,  and  through  these  you  have 
been  led  to  make  your  own  choice,  and  in  doing  so 
have  established  your  worth  as  individuals.  What 
that  may  be  is  always  an  open  question,  but  it  is 
not  for  you  to  decide,  and  the  world  will  not  con- 
sult your  feelings  in  the  matter.  With  a  compelling 
impulse  it  may  well  be  that  you  have  a  valuable 
personal  contribution  to  make. 

I  have  tried  to  throw  you  back  on  yourselves  as 
the  source  of  general  value.  Take  yourselves  se- 
riously, but  do  not  forget  that  size  is  relative,  and 
that  a  wave,  even  a  mile  long,  is  a  joke  in  com- 
parison with  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 

In  one  of  our  minds,  knowledge  is  accumulated 
directly  and  consciously,  and  it  should  be  used  for 
the  deduction  of  the  laws.  But  this  by  itself  is  not 
enough,  for  it  lacks  the  quality  that  comes  from 
your  own  personality.  People  who  paint  with  their 
conscious  minds  alone  are  generally  cold  and  tech- 
nical. Their  work  may  be  flawless,  but  it  has  about 

174 


TEE  STUDENT 

as  much  emotional  charm  as  a  textbook.  Another 
class  of  painter  can  put  nothing  in  words  or  even 
in  logical  sequence,  but  his  picture  has  all  that  the 
other  one  lacks.  The  very  fortunate  condition  is  to 
be  able  to  think  and  observe  so  that  your  facts  are 
definite  and  well  ordered  before  they  are  passed  to 
the  subconscious.  The  better  the  material,  the 
better  the  result.  This  may  seem  visionary,  but 
we  look  for  proof  in  the  extension  of  the  limit  of 
our  talent.  Whichever  may  be  the  more  important 
mind,  the  activity  of  the  outer  will  at  least  be  a 
stimulant  to  the  inner,  and  keep  it  in  well-being 
when  it  might  otherwise  falter  or  stop. 

It  is  natural,  in  seeking  guidance,  to  look  for 
positive  instructions,  best  ways  to  do  it,  depend- 
able rules,  and  any  other  helps  of  a  specific  nature 
that  hold  the  offer  of  quick  results.  It  shows  a 
proper  respect  for  the  past  which  in  no  way  should 
be  discouraged,  provided  it  is  remembered  that 
not  even  yet  have  we  discovered  all  of  the  laws. 
We  must  remember  also  that  our  forms  of  ex- 
pression change,  so  that  what  is  perfectly  intelli- 
gible to-day  would  have  been  arbitrary  nonsense  to 

175 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

a  past  generation.  We  can  understand  their  forms, 
however,  though  they  may  have  become  obso- 
lete and  useless  for  current  affairs.  The  change  in 
form  should  come  naturally  from  new  trains  of 
thought  or  new  sensations.  It  is  not  that  we  have 
more  brilliant  pigment  or  a  more  reckless  taste  in 
the  use  of  it,  but  taught  by  Nature  herself,  we 
approach  color  from  the  side  of  the  complemen- 
taries,  and  the  changes  of  warm  and  cold,  rather 
than  from  that  of  harmony,  as  was  done  before. 

By  common  acceptance  and  understanding  we 
see  a  truth  between  the  facts  which  would  not  even 
have  existed  for  other  eyes.  People  call  it  fashion, 
but  in  this  case  it  is  one  that  reveals  instead  of 
covering.  We  clothe  our  thoughts  to  bare  them. 

It  is  commonly  supposed  that  one  of  the  most 
valuable  properties  of  experience  is  to  learn  what 
we  may  not  do.  We  regret  our  mistakes,  of  course, 
but  perhaps  our  regrets  for  the  consequences  are 
even  more  potent  as  an  educational  influence.  Here 
we  return  to  law.  It  is  good  to  realize  that  a  special 
act  must  never  be  committed  again,  but  all  eternity 
is  not  long  enough  to  experiment  with  each  separate 

176 


THE  STUDENT 

sin.  I  suggest  classification  as  a  shortening  process. 
If  this  is  rudimentary,  it  is  nevertheless  most  ex- 
cellent advice. 

As  we  glance  back,  we  shall  see  that  our  technical 
ways  have  been  synthetic.  We  have  accepted  the 
conditions  imposed  by  Nature  and  have  gone  to 
some  trouble  and  expense,  as  represented  by  paint 
and  time,  to  inform  ourselves  as  to  what  they  are. 
Starting  with  generalities,  we  have  steadily  be- 
come more  specific.  When  our  special  interest 
arrived,  it  brought  with  it  many  things  that  were 
not  directly  before  us,  for  we  ourselves  entered  the 
picture  then.  Our  personal  quality  determined  our 
choice,  and  we  enriched  it  through  suggestion, 
which  draws  on  all  of  our  knowledge  and  expe- 
rience. It  would  seem  sufficiently  clear  that  the 
painter  himself  is  superior  to  his  paint;  therefore 
we  have  given  that  individual  careful  attention 
before  venturing  too  far  with  the  brush.  But  the 
superior  person  does  not  need  to  burden  his  mind 
with  his  own  superiority,  especially  when  he  is  at 
work,  and  he  sets  himself  to  his  task  simply  and 
even  automatically  to  "paint  what  he  sees." 

177 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

We  all  want  results,  but  we  unfortunately  dis- 
agree as  to  what  is  attainment.  Popular  success  is 
surely  not  the  answer,  though  most  of  us  would 
accept  it  as  a  minor  incidental.  Even  ambition  will 
take  a  chance  on  posterity  for  the  sake  of  a  little  of 
the  unworthy  present.  Perhaps  it  is  better  to  come 
to  our  own  conclusions,  each  to  his  taste,  in  fact. 

In  comparing  our  crowns  we  shall  find  that  they 
have  a  common  property,  in  that  they  are  never 
stable.  Not  that  they  elude  us,  but  we  ourselves 
move  and  discard  each  as  we  attain  it,  and  pass  on 
to  the  next. 

Motion,  then,  and  direction.  Success  is  a  stream. 
Our  pictures  point  to  better  ones  that  some  one 
else  will  make.  For  us,  we  do  what  we  have  to  do; 
we  get  what  we  may  as  we  go;  we  are  what  we 
choose  to  be. 


PART  III 

THE  PUBLIC 


PART  III 

THE  PUBLIC 

To  the  superior  and  highly  cultivated  person  it 
might  come  as  a  matter  of  some  surprise  if  he 
were  to  consider  the  difficulties  which  beset  the 
path  of  the  ordinary  individual  in  his  quest  for 
artistic  knowledge.  Much  literature  we  have  on  the 
subject,  but,  largely  historical  in  its  nature,  it 
is  difficult  to  draw  from  it  principles  that  would 
guide  one  to  the  understanding  of  those  purposes 
which  are  independent  of  the  changes  of  time  and 
fashion. 

We  are  hopelessly  confused  by  the  vagueness  of 
terms.  For  example,  what  does  Beauty  mean?  —  a 
very  important  thing  to  know,  since,  in  a  general 
way,  it  seems  to  be  a  final  reason  for  all  pictures. 
Is  it  a  matter  of  opinion,  or  is  it  something  quite 
definite  that  all  may  feel  and  understand? 

Our  art  critics  of  the  press  and  the  current  mag- 
azines do  their  part  by  showing  what  is  proper  to 
like,  but  lack  of  space,  as  well  as  other  reasons,  too 

i8i 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

often  prevent  them  from  giving  the  constructive 
criticism  which  might  lead  the  pubHc  to  a  broader 
knowledge  of  the  subject. 

How  does  a  critic  know  that  No.  19  in  the  cur- 
rent exhibition  is  a  notable  example?  He  says  it 
reminds  him  of  something  else,  which  is  presumably 
better,  or  he  would  not  have  mentioned  it;  that  the 
technique  is  very  satisfactory;  and  that  it  repre- 
sents a  studio  lady  pouring  tea.  We  know  that  he 
must  be  right  in  all  of  these  things,  but  he  does 
not  help  us  to  form  an  independent  judgment  of 
the  neighboring  picture  which  reminds  us  of  noth- 
ing we  have  ever  seen  or  heard  of  before,  and  has 
a  technique  that  is  incomprehensible.  But  this  one 
is  good,  too,  our  critic  says,  and  for  practically  the 
same  reasons.  One  would  be  led  to  suppose  that 
the  grounds  for  criticism  should  be  found  in  an 
ability  to  classify,  a  knowledge  of  technique,  and 
the  identification  of  the  subject;  though  the  tend- 
ency seems  to  be  to  lay  less  stress  on  the  latter 
requirement  as  time  goes  on.  But  the  point  of  any 
criticism  is  lost  when  the  use  of  the  knowledge  is 
forgotten,  though  it  may  give  one  a  glow  of  modest 

182 


TEE  PUBLIC 

pride  to  be  able  to  say  with  authority,  this  is  good, 
and  that  is  bad. 

The  painter  might  well  ask  that  his  offering  be 
taken  on  the  ground  of  the  sensation  he  intended 
to  convey  and  be  judged  by  the  degree  of  success 
he  has  reached  in  that  attempt.  This  presupposes 
that  his  intentions  are  known  and  it  is  not  always 
the  case.  The  difficulty  used  to  be  met  by  the  Eng- 
lish painters,  especially  of  the  Royal  Academy, 
who  quoted  the  poets  liberally  in  inscriptions  on 
the  frame,  and  so  prepared  the  public  mind  to 
understand  more  fully  the  beauties  above.  But 
this  has  never  been  our  custom,  though  in  many 
cases  it  might  be  a  welcome  aid.  One  might 
say  with  some  assurance  that  either  the  painter 
or  the  public  must  be  at  fault  —  but  both  are  the 
losers. 

A  picture  necessarily  means  subject-interest  of 
some  description.  Beyond  the  personal  pleasure  in 
being  able  to  do  it,  comes  the  impersonal  pleasure 
in  the  thing  done.  It  is  here  that  the  picture  be- 
comes public  property  and  where  one  finds  the 
only  possible  starting-point  for  a  general  under- 

183 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

standing.  The  dealer  is  right  from  his  limited  point 
of  view,  but  his  mind  runs  to  fiction  and  to  com- 
pliments, nice  stories,  and  the  reminders  of  a  happy 
day,  subjects  that  would  appeal  to  the  common 
taste  as  it  is,  rather  than  to  such  things  as  might 
be  added  to  it  and  lead  it  further. 

A  picture  is  to  give  pleasure,  of  course.  It  pre- 
sents a  subject  for  our  thought,  not  in  the  form  of 
an  essay,  but  rather  as  a  statement  of  conditions 
from  which  each  may  draw  his  own  conclusions. 
A  human  story  will  appeal  to  many,  but  it  might 
be  put  into  words  far  more  effectively  and  so  can 
be  only  a  minor  thing  in  painting.  As  a  matter 
of  common  interest,  we  have  place  associations, 
things  seen  or  connected  with  some  agreeable 
memory  of  personal  importance  chiefly,  and  not 
general  enough  in  their  nature  to  stand  by  their 
own  worth.  Beyond  these  are  more  universal  sub- 
jects, those  dealing  with  light,  beautiful  form, 
subtle  color,  and  the  complicated  relations  of  the 
three,  which  have  no  end  in  their  variety  and  are 
limited  only  by  the  ability  of  humanity  to  feel. 
These    subjects    are    not    easily    understandable, 

184 


THE  PUBLIC 

since  in  them  description  plays  a  minor  part,  and 
put  into  words  they  would  mean  very  little. 

A  picture  of  a  haystack  does  not  sound  exciting, 
and  one  might  say  that  a  castle  on  the  Rhine 
w'ould  be  a  much  better  choice.  But  the  haystack 
has  been  immortalized  by  a  painter  of  light,  and 
light  is  a  master  subject. 

Subject,  then,  divides  itself  into  two  classes,  in 
one  of  which  we  have  a  story  more  or  less  definitely 
told  with  the  interest  in  the  objects  represented. 
In  the  other,  color,  light,  and  form  are  associated  to 
create  a  primary  sensation  that  can  be  duplicated 
neither  in  words  nor  in  music.  This  latter  class 
is  the  exclusive  possession  of  painting.  When  the 
other  arts,  borrowing  the  name,  try  in  their  lan- 
guage to  arouse  the  same  emotion,  they  are  at  best 
trading  on  memory  and  the  result  is  a  thing  at 
second-hand. 

To  understand  this  more  abstract  side  of  painting 
requires  training,  but  even  short  of  that  many  of 
us  get  definite  sensation  from  these  elements  with- 
out in  any  way  knowing  why.  This  is  instinctive 
appreciation  —  good  taste,  and  grows  with  use.  It 

1 85 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

may  not  come  to  expression  with  the  brush,  for  the 
abihty  to  transcribe  is  rare  and  seems  to  be  a 
special  gift.  A  more  thorough  understanding,  how- 
ever, is  possible  to  all,  and  it  would  seem  worth  the 
effort,  since  it  increases  the  power  of  mental  en- 
joyment. That  desperate  person  we  have  spoken 
of  before,  who  knows  nothing  about  pictures,  but 
knows  what  he  likes,  should  be  taken  very  seriously. 

To  like  something,  no  matter  how  bad,  is  the 
first  step  toward  understanding.  Too  frequently, 
however,  in  this  declaration  of  independence  we 
read,  "All  tastes  are  created  free  and  equal," 
which  would  preclude  change,  growth,  or  discussion. 
There  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  freedom  of  tastes,  but 
equality  would  carry  us  into  strange  places. 

"  It  is  as  much  as  we  can  do  to  stand  Father,  but 
we  can't  stand  Mother  at  all,"  said  an  American 
girl  in  the  Louvre  as  she  was  looking  up  the  starred 
pictures  in  her  Baedeker.  One  sees  the  develop- 
ment of  taste  in  such  a  family  and  feels  the  grow- 
ing-pains. Father  had  a  taste  of  his  own.  Mother 
made  mistakes,  and  the  girls,  seeking  culture,  were 
guided  by  the  stars.  Perhaps  the  Star  Route  is  the 

iS6 


THE  PUBLIC 

best  way  at  the  beginning,  but  it  has  the  difficulty 
of  being  highly  empirical.  One  is  in  the  position 
of  a  moral  idiot  who  learns  the  laws  that  must  be 
kept,  one  by  one,  but  has  no  way  of  meeting  un- 
classified things  for  lack  of  understanding  of  the 
spirit  of  the  law.  Superficial  education  can  never 
take  the  place  of  that  understanding  which  is 
either  acquired  or  instinctive.  At  best,  in  matters 
of  taste,  it  can  prevent  us  from  being  an  offense  in 
the  eyes  of  our  superiors,  but  unless  it  is  the  true 
person  that  is  educated  up  to  the  point  where  that 
material  may  be  carried,  the  result  is  a  sham  in  its 
good  form. 

Father,  in  honest  inferiority,  had  at  least  the 
beginning  of  something  better  in  his  sheer  sin- 
cerity. To  pretend  what  he  did  not  feel  w^ould  have 
wrecked  the  bad  taste  which  was  his,  and  perhaps 
no  one  would  have  been  the  gainer.  There  is  a 
place  in  the  world  for  all  of  the  honest  bad  art,  for 
it  belongs  to  the  people  who  like  no  better.  Through 
it  they  pass,  if  it  is  within  their  power,  and  it  is 
the  history  of  many  a  fine  collection  in  America 
that  it  was  begun  with  very  doubtful  company. 

187 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

The  early  purchases  rose  as  time  went  on  and 
found  a  resting-place  under  the  roof  or  in  an  auction 
room,  there  to  begin  again  their  useful  career.  To 
the  poor  but  honest  painter  it  must  bring  a  throb 
of  pride  to  think  that  however  far  he  may  fall  from 
high  accomplishment,  and  perhaps  in  proportion 
to  that  fall,  he  is  the  spokesman  for  the  many  who 
know  what  they  like,  and  like  his  sort. 

The  world  is  made  of  those  who  produce  and 
those  who  reproduce.  The  producers  must  always 
be  few  in  number,  for  the  creative  spirit  is  rare, 
and  it  is  the  lot  of  most  of  us  to  follow  and  con- 
form to  the  accepted  ways.  We  are  obedient,  auto- 
matic, but  with  some  faint  tinge  of  the  creative, 
for  the  difference  between  us  and  the  creators  is 
one  of  degree  and  not  of  kind.  Appreciation,  as- 
piration, are  both  the  working  of  the  superior 
quality,  though  there  is  some  link  missing  that 
makes  them  in  most  of  us  barren  of  tangible  re- 
sults. We  are  of  two  classes;  and  there  must  be  a 
line  between,  on  the  one  side  of  which  stands  talent, 
on  the  other  the  common  mind.  True  enough,  there 
is  a  line,  but  it  is  called  permanence,  and  it  does 

i88 


THE  PUBLIC 

not  reach  within  a  hundred  years  of  our  feet.  Which 
side  of  the  line  we  shall  be  we  cannot  know,  and  if 
we  could  it  would  not  be  of  much  importance,  for 
it  is  enough  that  our  effort  is  in  the  direction  of 
permanent  things,  whether  it  be  in  the  form  of 
performance  or  of  support. 

It  is  human  to  seek  for  ranks  and  differences,  but 
if  all  men  were  declared  equal  as  once  was  done, 
the  discussion  would  soon  arise  as  to  who  would 
be  the  most  equal  man.  Free  and  equal  has  in  it 
a  contradiction  in  terms,  for  freedom  breeds  in- 
equality. Motion,  the  very  foundation  of  progress, 
is  unbalance;  and  genius,  the  moving  spirit,  is  the 
small  dynamic  sum  in  excess  of  stability.  Each  im- 
portant human  activity  supplies  a  little  more  than 
is  needed  for  the  moment,  and  so  we  accumulate 
capital  which  we  pass  to  other  times. 

If,  to  the  public,  the  painter  appears  to  take 
himself  too  seriously,  we  need  only  think  of  how 
long  his  sort  has  lasted.  He  may  be  a  very  bad 
painter  —  there  have  been  such ;  but  it  is  not  in 
success  that  all  values  lie,  for  even  success  is  rela- 
tive and  has  nothing  of  the  absolute  about  it.  It 

189 


FAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

might  be  profitable  to  consider  how  bad  a  bad 
painter  should  be  before  a  kindly  hand  may  stop 
him,  for  the  importance  of  failure  as  a  means  of 
progress  is  easily  lost  sight  of,  especially  by  the 
contributor  himself.  Failure  through  a  bad  motive 
is  not  to  be  tolerated,  for  an  evil  intention  has  no 
element  of  constructive  value  —  even  as  a  warning. 
A  good  intention,  though  abortive,  at  least  helps 
to  make  secure  the  footing  of  others  and  paves  a 
way  where  support  may  be  much  needed. 

We  never  can  become  superior  to  intention,  and 
the  importance  of  any  individual  depends  on  the 
general  worth  of  that  moving  impulse,  plus  the 
ability  to  carry  it  out.  A  burglar  may  be  a  very 
able  person,  but  his  motive  is  selfish  and  he  does 
not  duly  consider  the  rights  of  others.  The  law  dis- 
poses of  him  and  there  is  no  comment  on  the  phi- 
losophy of  the  situation,  but  his  real  offense  is  his 
individualism.  We  are  not  in  the  position  of  Adam, 
who  could  never  have  been  a  thief.  Intention  must 
run  in  line  with  the  development  of  the  race,  and 
the  individual  must  be  a  part  of  all  humanity,  as 
well  as  an  independent  being.  When  he  fails  in  the 

190 


TEE  PUBLIC 

first  he  obstructs  the  stream,  and  is  swept  away  in 
the  end  no  matter  how  strong  he  may  be.  This 
applies  directly  to  the  work  of  the  artist,  for  he  is 
above  all  things  a  historian.  He  is  of  his  time,  re- 
flecting its  general  mental  attitude,  and  putting  it 
into  permanent  expression.  If  his  spirit  be  creative, 
he  will  do  more  than  record ;  he  will  be  in  his  own 
way  a  prophet.  He  may  revolt  from  the  accepted; 
he  cannot  revert.  But  he  belongs  to  the  public  life 
and  is  the  voice  of  the  people.  A  twentieth-century 
primitive  is  a  contradiction  in  terms.  We  may 
doubt  the  man  who  is  ahead  of  his  time,  but  the 
one  who  is  behind  it  is  of  very  little  importance. 

It  would  only  happen  by  some  extraordinary 
chance  that  the  primitive  could  be  the  true  per- 
sonal expression  of  a  living  man,  and  even  then  it 
would  be  of  no  importance  to  anybody  but  himself. 
Much  more  likely  such  impulses  come  from  a  spirit 
restless  in  the  present,  with  no  individual  vision 
of  a  logical  future,  and  grasping  the  outer  form  of 
the  past  as  a  final  hope.  We  leave  out  of  consid- 
eration those  who,  unable  to  meet  the  technical 
standards  of  the  day,  or  unwilling  to  pay  the  price 

191 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

of  time  and  effort  to  reach  them,  repeat  the  im- 
perfect form  of  the  past. 

The  ways  of  the  old  men  were  simple  and  direct, 
and  they  painted  unhampered  by  the  complexi- 
ties that  surround  us,  their  successors.  They  had 
the  directness  of  children;  wisdom,  but  not  great 
knowledge;  and  so  they  spoke  for  their  people, 
finding  their  words  as  they  could.  It  is  their  wisdom 
that  should  pass  to  us,  rather  than  their  words,  for 
wisdom  is  of  no  time  or  period  and  changes  only 
in  its  scope. 

The  desire  to  astonish,  to  hurt,  to  corrupt,  or 
even  the  record  of  those  feelings  in  ourselves,  all 
are  destructive.  Every  human  impulse  that  is  on 
the  wrong  side  may  creep  into  a  picture  and  con- 
tinue its  harm  in  so  doing.  These  vagaries  of  the 
painter  would  be  of  little  account  if  he  did  not 
pursue  them  in  the  name  of  art.  Experiment  is 
necessary  in  all  forms  of  constructive  thought, 
but  a  picture  is  put  out  as  a  conclusion  and  the 
profession  assumes  the  burden.  The  actual  damage 
is  borne  by  the  public  which  is  either  completely 
mystified  or  acquires  an  evil  taste.  It  is  no  question 

192 


TEE  PUBLIC 

of  moral  lessons,  but  the  perversion  of  a  cause  to 
trivial  uses.  The  public  has  a  right  to  protest,  but 
it  sometimes  remains  to  buy. 

In  the  long  run  the  work  that  the  painter  leaves 
behind  him  lives  or  dies  in  proportion  to  its  general 
value  to  others.  He  feeds  the  growing  world  with 
his  accomplishment.  He  may  be  like  yesterday's 
dinner,  with  identity  lost,  but  having  made  his 
contribution  to  the  general  support.  Perhaps  he  is 
more  permanent  food  and  reaches  to  the  life-cur- 
rent itself.  But  whether  he  be  as  a  green  apple  or 
a  draught  of  aesthetic  wine,  he  disappears  as  an  in- 
dividual. A  drop  of  acid  in  a  tub  of  brine  modifies 
the  brine,  but,  after  all,  does  it  matter  in  the  result 
who  put  it  there?  Few  people  are  so  abstract  as  to 
forget  themselves  entirely  in  the  interest  of  pos- 
terity and  the  painter  is  no  different  from  other 
men  in  this  respect.  He  does  his  work  primarily  for 
himself,  because  he  wants  to  and  is  willing  grace- 
fully to  accept  all  of  the  fame  and  power  that  a 
grateful  public  will  accord  him.  At  the  same  time, 
he  will  still  do  his  work  if  these  are  denied.  So  the 
impulse  really  lies  behind  personal  gain,  and  he  is 

193 


PAINTING  AND  THE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

answering  a  deeper  call  of  his  nature  than  is  given 
to  most.  This  can  happen  only  in  some  form  of 
creative  expression,  and  at  the  end  there  is  always 
a  future  value,  a  personal  contribution  to  a  general 
cause. 

One  can  conceive  of  Art  for  Art's  sake,  or  science 
for  knowledge's  sake,  but  plumbing  for  plumbing's 
sake  would  be  exalting  the  necessary  but  passing 
service  to  a  universal  claim.  A  plumber  is  a  na- 
tional character,  very  much  needed  or  even  better 
forgotten,  but  he  is  not  constructive  in  his  nature, 
and  his  works  do  not  live  after  him.  He  justifies  his 
existence  with  labor,  helps  to  maintain  the  world's 
betterment,  but  he  is  one  of  the  millions,  simply 
an  element  of  stability.  He  and  his  sort  are  matter, 
while  the  few  are  force. 

The  inevitable  tendency  is  to  extinguish  the  per- 
son as  a  separate  individual,  of  whatever  order  he 
may  be.  If  he  is  of  the  mass,  he  and  his  work  are 
used  up  in  the  daily  life.  If  he  is  of  the  few,  his 
work  lasts  as  world-capital,  but  he  himself  passes. 

In  the  final  analysis.  Art  is  the  search  for  order 
and  it  has  the  significance  of  a  basic  human  in- 

194 


TEE  PUBLIC 

stinct.  Art,  Science,  Philosophy,  Psychology,  all 
are  seeking  the  laws  that  assign  us  our  place  in  the 
universe  and  help  us  to  fill  it  understandingly.  It 
is  not  the  thirst  for  knowledge  that  drives  us,  but 
rather  the  instinct  to  escape  from  chaos.  We  do 
not  know  where  we  are  going,  but  we  do  know 
what  w^e  are  leaving  behind  us.  Wherever  the  tend- 
ency arises  to  deny  order,  whether  it  be  in  the  arts 
or  the  art  of  living,  there  comes  degeneracy.  Direc- 
tion and  continuity  are  the  only  means  by  which 
we  are  able  to  measure,  for  a  more  concrete  stand- 
ard has  its  own  limits  within  itself. 

It  would  be  useless  to  debate  the  relative  im- 
portance of  the  various  forms  of  intellectual  life, 
for  they  seem  to  unite  to  make  man  as  he  is  at  the 
present  stage  of  development.  It  is  not  venture- 
some to  predict  that  the  arts  will  assume  an  in- 
creasing importance  as  the  material  needs  of  man- 
kind are  more  fully  met.  With  the  advance  of 
civilization  it  becomes  more  and  more  apparent 
that  individualism,  whether  in  the  person  or  in  the 
nation,  has  been  left  behind.  We  recognize  public 
responsibility.    The    individual    generally    admits 

195 


PAINTING  AND  TEE  PERSONAL  EQUATION 

this  by  his  acquiescence  in  the  laws  and  customs 
that  are  made  for  the  common  good,  but  the  cre- 
ative man  adds  his  allegiance  to  a  common  cause. 
He  is  personal,  and  at  the  same  time  impersonal, 
having  all  the  needs  of  other  men,  but  in  his  sum 
merely  a  working  unit  in  the  scheme  of  the  whole. 
It  is  a  nice  balance  between  a  man  and  a  cause. 
This  is  the  professional  painter  of  the  first  pro- 
fession in  the  world. 


THE  END 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U    .    S    .   A 


C 


\ 


i" 


L  006  177  404  8 


A  A      000  286  968 


